


And Then, You

by Rearviewdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Debutante Ball, F/F, Falling In Love, Girl Direction, Nobility, Princess Harry, Royalty, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:53:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22763527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rearviewdreamer/pseuds/Rearviewdreamer
Summary: The last place Harry wants to spend part of her summer is in the middle of nowhere prepping for some stupid, age-old tradition she never asked to be part of. Debutante balls are so ridiculous that Harry would give anything to get out of hers. That is, until she meets Louis, and suddenly, she's wishing to never leave.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 39
Kudos: 128
Collections: HL Royalty Fic Fest 2019/20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Princess meets high society young woman as they both tirelessly prepare for this year's grand debutante ball with dance lessons, dress fittings, etc. Cue lots of flirting, confused feelings, and self-discovery.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Harry’s sister asks, her long dark hair moving with the wind and the bounce of the carriage, same as her own except much wilder.

Harry doesn’t bother trying to fix her unruly mane of curls as she gazes out the window at the vast countryside. It’s useless in an open carriage anyway. Even more futile in the dead of summer and the thick, stuffy air that comes with it.

“Yeah. Pretty,” Harry agrees with a wistful sigh that catches the attention of her older sister. Gemma snorts at her in a way that’s less princess and more menace, but that’s what Harry loves about her big sister. That she has all the charm, beauty, presence, and capability of a royal who will lead their kingdom into its next great age, while also being a little shit. Harry, on the other hand, has very few of those qualities, which is probably why their parents are sending her to stay in the countryside for two weeks like some wild animal; a forced muggy holiday courtesy of the King and Queen.

“Oh, Haz. Come now. It’s not going to be _that_ bad,” she says with a fond roll of her eyes.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Harry mutters as their carriage starts down a narrow dirt path, presumably leading to Harry’s doom.

“Um, yes, that’s right, because I’ve actually already done this,” Gemma reminds her matter-of-factly. “In case you’ve forgotten, my debutante ball was only a few years ago, so yeah. I get it.”

Harry rolls her eyes at that, wincing when a gust of wind causes her own hair to assault them. “Yeah, you did this a few years ago and you were brilliant at it. You didn’t even _need_ debutante ball preparation. Mother and Father just had you go as a formality.”

Gemma is a great dancer; people tell her that all the time. Gemma is also great at drawing and telling jokes and going along with antiquated and sexist traditions for the sake of crown and country. Harry is a mediocre dancer at best though she’s had lessons her whole life same as her older sister. Harry’s drawing resembles a child’s, the timing of her jokes never seems to land quite right, and frankly, Harry resents any tradition that forces girls like herself to be paraded through a ballroom like cattle for sale to the richest and most powerful bidder. It’s ridiculous.

Harry is fuming as she stares out the window watching the giant estate house that will basically serve as Harry’s prison for the next two weeks come into view.

“Haz, it’s just a dumb ball,” Gemma says, scooting closer to Harry to gently stroke her curls which at this point, probably resemble a bird’s nest, though she doesn’t comment on them. “We all have to do this when we come of age, but it doesn’t mean anything. Not really.”

Maybe not other people, but it means something to Harry. Her life should be more than a debutante ball meant to refine her into someone she isn’t and doesn’t want to be. Women should have a say in who they become.

“I just hate that I have to do this. I hate that I was essentially born just to be married off in some future war or political trade deal to some nobleman who won’t give a damn if I can draw or waltz or not, so long as I give him a bloody son,” Harry mutters making her sister grin as her warm brown eyes soften.

“Oi. If anyone’s getting auctioned off to have thirty male heirs and save the bloody kingdom, it’s _me_. And do you know _why_?”

Harry is unable to stop herself from smiling at her idiot big sister. “Because you’re the eldest,” she answers, spluttering a laugh when Gemma pokes her in the left dimple.

“Damn right, I’m the eldest. And don’t you forget it,” she warns, giving Harry’s right cheek a poke for good measure. “And ball or not, no nobleman is coming to steal you away just yet. As future Queen, I won’t allow it.”

For now, while their parents are both alive and well, Harry and her sister are safe from any real royal responsibilities. However, that could all change in the blink of an eye in which case the first heir assumes all duties. That’s Gemma’s fate. She’s known that her whole life and made peace with it because that’s what’s expected of a princess. Harry’s not even on the chopping block first as the second heir to the throne, and yet she still has such a hard time accepting the way things are. They should both be free to marry men that they choose, not the other way around. They should be free to fall in love like everybody else.

Their carriage finally rolls to a stop in front of the big, stony estate that isn’t doing much to win her over. It’s pretty she guesses. The rose bushes and bright green grass help brighten up the old country home, but Harry still isn’t looking forward to being held captive inside its walls.

Their driver steps down from their carriage to grab Harry’s things and open the carriage door for her. He waits at the bottom of the golden steps with an outstretched hand until Harry stops resisting and accepts that this is really happening. She’s really going to have to stay here and be prepped for a stupid ball. Dungeon torture sounds more appealing.

She gathers the end of her travel dress and takes the hand offered to help her down. Once out of the carriage, Harry cranes her neck to get a full view of her new home away from home that’s eerily quiet for a place holding fourteen other young society women deemed ready for their societal debuts.

“Where is everyone?” Harry frowns, spinning on her heel when she realizes her sister isn’t answering that question next to her like she thought.

“Well, you’re the first one here obviously, _your highness_ ,” Gemma explains making Harry let out a very unprincess-like groan.

“But _why_?” she whines. “I told Mother and Father when they said I had to come here that I didn’t want to be treated any differently.”

“I know you hate making a scene, but I don’t make the rules... well, _yet_ ,” her big sister smirks while Harry petulantly kicks at the dirt beneath her shoe. “Now is probably a good time to inform you that you get your own room too. I bet it reeks of privilege just like when I stayed there,” she teases, fondly shaking her head at her little sister pouting up at her.

She breaks protocol, stepping out of the royal carriage without assistance to stand face-to-face with Harry before wrapping her in a tight hug. “You’re going to be fine. Promise,” she whispers. “You never know, you might even actually enjoy it.”

“I doubt it,” Harry mutters, making a face as Gemma tries to tame her hair in all the places it’s the worst.

Once she’s done fussing, Gemma gives Harry another quick squeeze, this one a little tighter so that when she lets go, Harry’s already a little homesick.

“Now, go in there and learn to be the best debutante there ever was,” Gemma orders after she lets go. “We’ll all see you two weeks at the ball.”

Harry watches as her sister climbs back into the carriage unassisted and then grins down at Harry from the window.

“Try to have a little fun, love,” she tells Harry.

“Fun. _Right_.”

Harry’s pretty sure having fun in a place like this is impossible.

“I’ll have you know, I made some of my best friends while I was here,” Gemma informs Harry only to receive a mock scoff in return.

“I thought _I_ was your best friend.”

“Well, maybe that’s what you get for thinking,” Gemma jokes as she sits back from the window.

The driver wishes Harry well as he climbs back up to his seat too, and within minutes their royal carriage is disappearing down the same dirt path by which it arrived.

When they’re gone, Harry is left alone with nothing but her bags and a serious-looking woman now standing in the doorway of the house with two aides at her sides who move to grab all of Harry’s things without even being told.

The silver-haired woman could only be the infamous, Lady Watson; the no-nonsense etiquette and civility instructor that Gemma never could quite get on with. Harry hopes she’ll fare a bit better. Lady Watson’s face remains stony as she walks down the steps toward her, her eyes assessing Harry from head to toe. Their greeting is brief, just long enough for Lady Watson to introduce herself, welcome Harry to Pritchard House, and express how pleased she is to have the honor of debuting yet another princess into society.

Harry thanks her, and it appears that the two of them just might get along. That is, until Harry politely asks to be called by her name rather than her title, so she isn’t treated any differently than all the other girls.

Lady Watson raises an eyebrow at the request, and she doesn’t look impressed as she gives a curt nod. “As you wish,” she agrees, refraining from giving her opinion on the matter as she turns to go back inside the house. “Come along, please,” she beckons. “And stand up straight.”

Harry frowns at the command, reluctantly pushing her shoulders back so that what little assets she does possess in the front are on display. Gemma was right. This place is already loads of fun.

The inside of the house is as impressive as the outside with its big windows and elegant furniture. The common rooms are all large enough to hold a family of twenty or more which is fitting considering how many people will be staying here over the next couple of weeks. Whenever they all arrive.

“Um, and the others?” Harry asks after a quick look the oil painting of a river hanging outside her bedroom in the upstairs corridor.

“We’re expecting everyone else by dinner. I’ll see you then,” Lady Watson explains before turning and leaving the way they came.

It’s eerily quiet now that Harry’s all alone on the third floor. There is a row of thick wooden doors lining both sides of the corridor, ending with Harry’s at the very end. She opens it and steps inside, finding her belongings already there with a large bed and a view overlooking the front garden.

Gemma was right. It is pretty. The whole place is lovely. Even Lady Watson isn’t that bad, but none of it’s enough to change Harry’s mind about this situation. She can only hope that these next two weeks of hell will fly by so she can go home where she belongs. Either that, or Gemma decides to hijack the royal carriage in the next few minutes to perform a rescue mission. A bit of excitement is all Harry asks.

*

Louis knows she shouldn’t do it, but she can’t help her urge to stick her head out of the carriage window like a child to get a better look at all the trees and flowers and the big estate house coming into view. She’s never seen anything like it in her whole life which just makes this situation even more exciting. She still can’t believe she really gets to stay there and practically live like royalty for two whole weeks. This is going to be a once in a lifetime experience and Louis intends to take full advantage of it.

Under normal circumstances, Louis would never be able to do something like this; to live like a real lady. Being the eldest of seven children born to a Baron just able to maintain the small manor they all live in, money is always better saved, not spent on a holiday in the countryside preparing for a debutante ball.

Technically, Louis should’ve come here last year when she came of age, but she was needed more at home following the death of her mother. Louis hadn’t expected another debutante invitation after having to pass on the first, but she got one anyway. Her father couldn’t turn it down again or else people would really start to talk. Also, he didn’t have it in his heart to say no, so that meant Louis was in the club. Well, sort of. That meant that for once she gets to wear beautiful new ball gowns, make friends, waltz around a dance floor, and learn to do all the other things that other high society girls get to learn in an effort to become accomplished. Not that Louis _has_ any beautiful new ball gowns, but she does have one of her mother’s gowns and some pretty nice dresses and shoes that her cousins let her borrow. Louis isn’t the most poised person or the most delicate. She swears, likes rude jokes, and sometimes her sense of humor can be downright crass, but it’s not like she’s had very many opportunities to be molded into a real lady.

She’s not too bothered by the idea of coming here to be molded into an accomplished woman, or at least some version of one. History and society have shown that the best thing Louis can do for herself and her family is to marry well enough to see them all taken care of, and Louis intends to do so one of these days. She isn’t sure if two weeks will be enough to turn her into someone that a suitor will take seriously. Probably not, in all honesty, but regardless, Louis’ definitely going to have fun trying.

The estate house becomes larger the closer Louis gets which just makes her more excited. It’s at least three times bigger than her family home. By the time her carriage arrives in front of it she’s practically bouncing in her seat for the chance to go inside and explore. Behind her are three other carriages coming down the long dirt path. They are all much nicer that Louis’ worn family carriage. The girls inside of them are surely exquisite creatures too, probably wearing the most fashionable dresses and hairstyles. As fascinating as it would be to see their intricate braids and the rich fabrics that make up their clothes, Louis’ more interested in what awaits her inside her new home for the next two weeks.

Her driver, the lovely Mr. Tom who has worked for her family since she was a baby, fondly rolls his eyes when Louis hops out of the carriage before it comes to a complete stop.

“You’re supposed to let me help you down, you know,” he chastises.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Louis grins, already half-way towards the big stone house.

Louis would knock after she climbs the old wooden steps, but the old wooden door is open which is an invitation to walk right in if she’s ever seen one.

She’s amazed the moment she steps inside of the most impressive foyer she’s ever seen. The windows are twice Louis’ height and the rosewood staircase that spirals up into the rest of the house is old, but beautiful. There are little treasures all around the room like the old chandelier hanging from the ceiling and the paintings hanging on the walls. Louis gently runs her fingers along their carved frames and the fine lace curtains adorning the windows. There are even finer things and larger rooms beyond the foyer. The other girls who arrived after Louis head off to explore them while their bags are gathered, but for now, Louis’ curiosity is piqued by the peculiar little tea set displayed opposite the stairs.

It looks nothing like the tea set in her house, plain and chipped from years of use. This one is light green and made of something so delicate and smooth it looks like glass. Surely it wasn’t made anywhere near here. That’s why Louis has never seen anything like it. She simply has to touch it, taking extra care not to break anything as she does. She lifts the top of the teapot to see inside of it, the lid clattering back down to its rightful place when a stern voice from somewhere on the left side of the foyer startles her. 

“That is jade, it was given to me as a gift, and it is _not_ a toy,” a silver-haired woman says from the doorway. The woman quietly looks Louis over with a sweeping gaze and suddenly, Louis feels the urge to mirror the woman’s perfect posture and maybe fix her windblown hair.

“I- I was only admiring it. I’m sorry,” Louis apologizes, giving the woman an apologetic bow of her head. The woman doesn’t acknowledge it before calling for all the girls who just arrived to come find her in the drawing room and not to touch anything. She directs a pointed look at Louis before slowly disappearing the way she came. “Sorry. Again,” Louis tries, and as expected, it makes no difference.

Nothing is funny about probably breaking the record for the fastest worst first impression and yet Louis snorts a laugh after releasing the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. Her shoulders relax now that she’s alone again, but she swears she can still feel a pair of eyes on her. Louis locates them when she turns away from the tea set and notices a girl watching her from the top of the landing.

Louis recognizes her immediately. Anyone in the kingdom would be able to because she’s not just any girl. She’s the youngest of their two Princesses, and clearly, she hadn’t meant to be seen because like Louis, her eyes widen in surprise when she’s caught. Louis’ never met either Princess before, but this one is even more beautiful than everyone claims. Her dark hair is wild with thick curls like Louis has never seen, eyes like sea glass, and a pair of cheeky dimples on either side of her grin that says she too enjoys a bit of mischief from time to time.

Louis grins back with a royal curtesy she was taught to do as a child but never had any use for until now. She wonders if perhaps she did it wrong because it doesn’t seem to go down well with Princess Harry. She looks slightly uncomfortable with the formality, so Louis offers the Princess a friendly little wave instead. It only lasts a couple of seconds though, the both of them jumping in surprise and snorting laughs at one another when a stern voice demands for newly arrived girls to meet in the drawing room _now_. Unfortunately, that means Louis, so she heads in the same direction the unimpressed woman did, smiling when she receives a little wave from the Princess in return before they part ways. 

As it turns out, the unimpressed woman with silver hair has a name besides that. She is called Lady Watson and Louis realizes right away that they probably won’t be fast friends due to Louis’ love of amusement of all forms and Lady Watson’s impatience for anything that even slightly resembles fun. She takes her job as debutante instructor very seriously and in return, she expects for her debutantes to do the same. Apparently, Louis’ invitation to participate in this year’s debutante ball came from Lady Watson herself because she knew her mother. She must’ve seen something in Louis worth her time and effort, so Louis really wants to do well while she’s here. She promises herself to take full advantage of the second chance she’s been given here and to try her very best at being a lady. However, that was before Louis was shown to her room and saw the giant fluffy bed she gets all to herself.

Technically, only half the room is hers. The fluffy bed and furnishings on the opposite side of the room belong to someone who has yet to arrive, and until she does, Louis is free to do whatever her heart desires. And right now, that’s kicking off her dirty travel boots to jump up and down on her mattress that’s so soft she’s convinced it was fashioned from actual fucking clouds. Lady Watson would probably faint if she could see Louis right now because bed-jumping is neither polite, prestigious, or very lady-like, but that’s what the next two weeks are supposed to be for. Louis has a whole lifetime of being responsible ahead of her. Today, she’s choosing fun. And what Lady Watson doesn’t know won’t hurt her. 

*

When Harry arrived earlier in the day, it was to a house that was virtually empty apart from herself. Other girls began to show up as the afternoon went on. Some arrived in clusters and others arrived by themselves until the once empty house became crowded with people. Harry has seen one or two of them who have visited the palace before, but most of the girls are strangers to her. That’s not to say that Harry is a stranger to them. It seems like every time Harry turns around there’s some poor startled girl gasping and curtseying like her life depends on it.

This is exactly the kind of thing Harry wanted to avoid here so she kindly explains again and again that all the bowing and dutiful ‘ _your highnesses_ ’ aren’t necessary. Harry just wants to blend in as best she can, but that’s difficult to do when she’s the center focus of every room she enters simply because of who she is.

In theory, being a royal should make Harry pretty popular amongst all the young women about to join the ranks of high society, but that’s not really the case. Harry’s title is having the opposite effect by intimidating everyone so much that they can hardly meet her eyes. Harry’s sure it’s not malicious. Everyone is probably just avoiding her out of fear of doing or saying the wrong thing to get on the royal short-list. Either way, it sucks though.

Nothing changes by dinner when Harry takes a seat towards the end of the extra-long table in the center of the room and every other seat around the table gets claimed except for the one right next to her. While everyone else is engaged in lively pre-dinner conversation, Harry is resigned to silence in her lonely little corner of the dining room. However, that doesn’t last long thanks to one girl who enters the room and aims a big unmistakable smile right at Harry.

It’s the same girl from earlier that Harry first saw when the sound of carriages arriving prompted her to come downstairs to do a little spying. Harry can’t explain it, but this girl seems different from everyone else here.

She has the posture of someone who’s been reminded of it her whole life but who has worked hard to ignore all the same. There’s such lightness and freedom in her movements that she could probably make even the most skilled dancers jealous. Her long chestnut hair falls over her shoulders in soft waves rather than intricate braids down her back. She wears only one piece of jewelry; a silver necklace with a small blue stone that matches her eyes, her dress is nice, but it isn’t the newest or most expensive, making her look just slightly out of place in the room filled with girls who have been groomed to perfection. Not that any of that fazes her. She fearlessly takes the seat next to Harry just as she fearlessly inspected Lady Watson’s prized tea set before nearly breaking it. And, Harry can’t be one-hundred percent sure, but she could’ve sworn she heard the distinct sound of someone jumping on a bed not even fifteen minutes later. That kind of confidence practically demands respect. So does that kind of beauty.

Everyone around the table is looking in their direction, but the girl doesn’t notice, seemingly more interested in the tall bottle of wine before her. She pours some for herself, takes an experimental sip, and then makes a very pleased hum into her glass before sipping down a more generous amount. She realizes she’s the only one drinking a minute later when she catches the hard gaze of Lady Watson at the opposite end of the table. The stern look makes the girl immediately relinquish the glass with a sheepish grin and mouths a ‘ _whoops_ ’ that Lady Watson doesn’t find amusing.

This girl’s hilarious and unapologetic knack for finding mischief reminds Harry of someone. She quickly realizes that she reminds Harry of her sister which makes Harry even more eager to make friends with her. 

“Um, hi! I’m Harry... well, _Harriet_ , technically. But, mostly Haz,” she explains with a small frown. “Well, that’s not really true either because I’m only Haz with my sister usually, but I guess I’ve always liked that the best. Um, b-but, you can call me whatever you like, of course. It’s totally up to you.”

Never in her entire life has Harry ever introduced herself to someone like that. She has no idea why she’s suddenly so nervous. Harry mentally berates herself for that travesty of an introduction, hoping she didn’t just spook her potential new mate with her rambling or by drawing even _more_ attention to them than before. But, seeing as how her neighbor just showed up to dinner six minutes late in full view of everyone including Lady Watson, Harry doubts the attention bothers her.

“You know... I like Haz too,” the girl decides after a few moments of contemplation. “It’s unique; _pretty_. It suits you,” she smiles. “And, in case you’re wondering, technically, I’m Louise, but only when I’ve done something to really, really upset my father. All other times, I’m just Louis. Lou when people are feeling particularly lazy,” she jokes, and suddenly Harry doesn’t feel half as nervous as she did. Actually, she’s now more confident than ever that she might have the good fortune tonight of making a friend. “So, Haz, are you a ruthless drunk who accidentally tries the wine before it’s time or is that just me?”

“I’ve been guilty of stealing sips, especially as a child,” Harry admits. “My sister was usually the main instigator there.” She’s the main instigator in most situations really.

“Ah, yes. From the stories I’ve heard about the eldest Princess, that sounds about right,” Louis chuckles. Besides the mini curtsey in the foyer, that’s the first time Louis has even acknowledged Harry’s royal title, and she just did so without so much as a flinch. It’s like it doesn’t even matter that Harry’s a Princess, and honestly, it’s so refreshing. “Now, the rumors about you are quite different...” Louis continues. “They say you’re the shy, quiet one, but.”

“But, what?” Harry asks, grinning when Louis does.

“Well, obviously that’s complete horse shit,” Louis swears loud enough to silence the small talk that had started to bubble up. Lady Watson definitely heard it. She aims a disapproving look down the table at them, holding it as she stands up from the table and disappears into the kitchen to check on their dinner.

“Jesus, so much for my big debut into society,” Louis snorts in a much quieter voice. “At this rate, I’ll be lucky to make it to bloody Ball night without being drawn and quartered.”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think I’m her favorite person either, but I’m sure eventually she’ll come around,” Harry offers.

“Yeah, she’ll come around alright,” Louis mutters as she reclaims her glass, “with a dagger if she ever finds out I have a penchant for jumping on beds as well as gulping down wine.”

Now, Harry is the one earning bewildered stares from the table because of how loudly she chokes trying to stifle her own laughter.

It’s official. Louis is amazing, and Harry just met her new best friend. 

Dinner is much less eventful once the food gets served and there’s not much to do besides eat, drink, and dream about dessert. Afterwards, Harry and the other girls are all corralled into the drawing room where they’re formally introduced to all the household staff, Lady Watson, and each other. They only get to socialize for a little while, during which, Harry and Louis mostly talk amongst themselves. The evening all leads up to a speech Lady Watson gives about why they’re all here, the importance of the next two weeks, and the sacred rite of passage that is the debutante ball which will somehow take them from children to women.

Harry’s not too sure about that. It’s just a ball after all; a fancier version of a dinner party really. Believing it has the power to catapult people into womanhood or that any of them will be any different in two weeks than they are right now is quite silly. It’s absolutely ridiculous to think change happens that quickly or that smoothly, but whatever helps Lady Watson and people like her sleep better at night, Harry supposes.

It’s not too late by the time that’s all over, but it feels like it is. Everyone is exhausted either from traveling today or listening to Lady Watson go on about debutante balls being ‘the cornerstone of modern high society’. Harry would imagine that some people are exhausted from both which is why no one protests when Lady Watson ends the evening and wishes them all a good night. 

One by one, people start filtering out of the drawing room to climb the stairs up to their beds. Harry is the last to head up the stairs. Or so she thought anyway, but it seems Louis outlasted everyone including Lady Watson who already retired to her quarters.

“Oi, are you seriously going to bed already?” she whispers to Harry from the bottom of the staircase.

Harry shrugs halfway to the second floor of the house. “Well, yeah. Lady Watson said-”

 _“_ A bunch of boring stuff about women and duties that she’s probably said a billion times,” Louis comically rolls her eyes, allowing a mischievous smirk to pull at her lips. “It’s far too early to sleep,” she informs Harry matter-of-factly.

Harry doesn’t really disagree. If she were home right now, she and Gemma would certainly be up.

“I assume you have some sort of alternative plan to what we’re supposed to be doing right now?”

“Why, of course,” Louis proudly answers as she tiptoes toward the door and quietly unlocks it. “I’m going _out_. For a walk, obviously.”

“ _Where_?” Harry snorts.

“Don’t know,” Louis shrugs nonchalantly. “Want to come?”

She has a feeling nothing good will probably come from them sneaking out to go explore, and yet Harry hardly gives Louis’ invite a second thought before rushing back down the stairs to join her.


	2. Chapter 2

From the moment Louis arrived here and saw the sprawling landscape surrounding her new home away from home, she wanted nothing more than the chance to explore it. Between exploring the massive interior of Pritchard House, dinner, and Lady Watson’s watchful eye, Louis hasn’t had time to venture outside. However, with everyone gone to bed and most likely asleep, now is her chance. Well, hers and Harry’s.

“I thought you said you had a _plan_ for coming out here?” The Princess laughs watching Louis jump against the big, mysterious stone wall at the end of the garden that’s practically been begging for Louis to climb over it all day. There’s a wooden door next to them that would probably be much easier to use. If Louis had found the key that Lady Watson must keep hidden so as not to tempt the curiosity of her debutantes. Her strategy probably works most of the time. Poor thing.

Louis jumps as high as she can, her fingers just brushing the edge of the stone wall before she drops back down to her feet. She does this several times until her last attempt lands her flat on her bum instead, and suddenly Louis’ groaning in defeat while Harry’s bent over laughing.

“You’re going to get us caught,” Louis shushes her new friend, unable to keep a straight face while listening to the most unprincess-like cackle coming out of Harry. It may just be the best thing about her yet. “That’s right, keep on laughing,” Louis sighs, “Just leave me here to sulk in the mud and _not_ find out what’s over this dumb wall.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Harry snorts. Eventually, she stops laughing enough to extend a helping hand to Louis. “Here, let me,” she offers.

When Louis reaches up to accept the assistance, she can’t help but notice how much softer Harry’s hands are compared to everyone else’s she’s touched. Louis wonders if it’s from a life of palace living, or simply because everything about Harry is soft. It’s probably a mixture of both, Louis realizes once she’s standing upright again and Harry carefully looks her over from head to toe.

“You alright?”

Louis grins at the kind question, nodding her head in answer. “I’ve had a lot worse. At least nothing’s broken this time,” she says watching Harry’s big green eyes grow even wider with shock.

“What did you break?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Louis smirks just to see the miffed expression Harry makes in response to her sass.

She dusts herself off, stands back from the tall stone wall, and lets out a disappointed sigh as she stares up at it.

“I reckon it’s just not meant to be tonight,” Louis laments, blinking away from the wall when she feels a gentle tap against her shoulder.

“Well, I reckon you just need a bit of a boost,” Harry counters.

Louis’ eyes move from Harry’s dimples to her pristine hands clasped together in a makeshift step.

“Er- Thanks, but I couldn’t do that,” Louis shakes her head. Regardless of how Louis views her new friend or how her new friend views herself, the fact still remains that she is a royal. She’s a bloody princess which kind of makes it awkward and forbidden for Louis and her muddy boots to use her as a human staircase. She could probably lose her head for that. Lady Watson would probably personally remove it, and Louis quite likes her head.

“Of course you can,” Harry snorts. “Gemma’s short too, so she used to always need a boost.”

Louis is just about to decline her offer again when she registers what was just implied. “Harry, I can’t just go around stepping on- Wait. Did you just call me _short_?”

Harry just grins. “Well, if the child-sized boot fits,” she teases making Louis’ expression go flat.

“ _Hands_ ,” Louis demands. Since her royal highness has no problem making jokes, Louis isn’t going to be shy dirtying her up. After all, she’s not made of glass. “Okay, hold still,” she says, lifting the hem of her dress just enough that she can rest one foot in Harry’s grip. Next, she places both hands on Harry’s shoulders to steady herself, grinning when Harry does.

“On the count of three,” she says, making Louis frown.

“On three _exactly_ , or like, one, two, three, pause, and _then_ lift?”

“On the count of three. As in three,” Harry snorts, already counting up and giving Louis’ foot a little bounce with each number. When she gets to three, Louis pushes herself off the ground and reaches up, her fingers finally latching onto the edge of the wall.

“A little higher!” Louis says, feeling Harry push her further until she’s able to anchor herself over the ledge with her arms.

“Can you see?” Harry shouts from the ground.

“Almost,” Louis grunts as she adjusts herself enough to be able to peer down at whatever lies below. She figures it’s just more garden or an empty patch of grass nobody ever uses, however she had hoped for something more interesting than that. Luckily, she got her wish.

“Well?” Harry asks, immediately changing her tune to, ‘I want to see!’ when Louis reveals it’s some sort of labyrinth.

The next few minutes are touch and go as Louis attempts to climb over the wall and land on the other side without landing in a puddle of mud. She accomplishes only one of those things, her poor dress suffering most of the consequences, but she has others. 

“Oh my God,” Harry laughs when Louis unlocks and opens the thick wooden door from the inside. “You’re _covered_ in mud.”

There’s currently mud in lots of places it shouldn’t be, but the silver lining in all of this is the bloody _labyrinth_ Lady Watson didn’t tell them about. Adventure is waiting, and here Harry is plucking leaves out of Louis’ hair.

“You gonna spend all night grooming me like a horse, or are we gonna walk around in this thing until we get lost?”

“Well, technically, we _can’t_ get lost in here. Unlike mazes, labyrinths only have one way in and out...” Harry explains while still fussing over Louis’ disheveled appearance. Honestly, she’s almost worse than Lady Watson. She stops talking and picking shrubbery out of Louis’ hair when she notices Louis’ bored expression. “I’m ruining this for you, aren’t I?”

“Only a little,” Louis grins. “You can make up for it by telling me about you and your sister sneaking over palace walls.”

“Only if you tell me what body part you broke and how on Earth you managed to break it,” Harry bargains.

“Alright, deal. It was my right toe,” Louis reveals, before starting down the corridor of tall shrubs with Harry right at her heels as Louis describes the summer morning she and her siblings all woke up with a craving for the apples that grow the sweetest at the very top of the trees.

*

It feels like they’ve only been out exploring for a few minutes, but in reality, it’s hours later when their tired yawns push them to go back to the house. They started with the labyrinth that turned out to actually be a complicated maze which would explain why Lady Watson keeps it under lock and key. It was still fun getting lost though. Harry would say it’s the most fun she’s ever had, but she thinks Louis has more to do with that than the maze. After finding their way out of the maze, they took a walk through the woods and learned of the little pond there that’s perfect for cleaning mud off their boots and their feet.

The walk back was long, but Harry didn’t mind because it gave her time to listen to more of Louis’ stories. She’s the eldest daughter of seven and also the most mischievous. Harry likes that she wears both titles with pride. Louis told her all about her life, the people in it, and even the people who are no longer here with them. Louis told her everything, including last year when she actually came of age, but was needed at home with her family rather than here with Lady Watson. She says she feels a lot of responsibility to make everyone proud and do her best since she knows she shouldn’t really be here this year, but Harry disagrees. So far, she’s Harry’s favorite thing about this whole experience.

They sneak into the house and up the stairs unheard; a difficult feat for two people who giggle with every creak of the hardwood under their weight. The wood up on the third floor is even worse, however, everyone seems to be asleep by now so there’s no danger of them being caught.

Harry’s room is at the very end of the corridor, but they realize with much delight that Louis’ room is just next door. It’s no wonder Harry could hear someone jumping on a bed earlier.

“Well, this is me,” Louis yawns, opening her door enough for Harry to see inside the empty double room. It looks almost as lonely as Harry’s room with all of Louis’ things piled on one side of the room she is apparently sharing with no one.

“What happened to your roommate?” Harry asks.

“Not sure,” Louis shrugs. “Lady Watson told me at dinner that she wasn’t feeling well a couple of days ago, so she may not show up.”

That would explain why Harry kept miscounting the number of girls at dinner. There should be fifteen of them total, but one is missing.

“I hope she’s alright,” Harry offers.

“Yeah, me too. This is my first time sleeping away from home, so it would’ve been nice having at least one person around. But, at the same time, I can’t say I’m not curious to see what it’s like to have a room all to myself for once. I’ve been sharing since my sister Lottie was born and things just got more crowded from there,” Louis chuckles.

“I’m staying alone as well,” Harry reveals, though her situation is slightly different. Harry got her own wing of the palace the day she was born so she and Gemma never really had to share. And here, her royal title makes her unfit to room with people with other titles. The whole thing is stupid really. Harry would love to have a roommate for once. She’d love it even more if that roommate was Louis.

“Well, I hope you have an amazing royal sleep all alone in your fancy royal bedroom,” Louis teases as she steps into her bedroom that’s almost identical to Harry’s except for the extra furniture.

“I’ll try,” Harry smiles. She means to say goodnight next, but then suddenly she’s saying something else. “Um, mine is always open if you happen to get scared or lonely or- or something,” she offers making Louis’ eyes crinkle with amusement. 

“Thank you, Harry. That’s very kind and I’ll keep that in mind,” she promises.

Neither of them says anything for a few moments where Harry’s unable to stop grinning and her heart feels unusually light. Finally, she realizes she’s still standing in Louis’ doorway preventing her from closing it. “Oh. Er- Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Harry,” she says back. Her door slides shut on her crinkle-eyed smile and Harry’s left in the corridor alone, noting how awake she feels even though it’s almost midnight.

In her room, she’s still too energized to sleep. Instead, she lays in her bed gazing out her window at the moon, wondering if Louis is in her room doing the same.

Harry feels like she’s only just fallen asleep when she wakes the next day so the sound of people bustling around the house. At home, the palace is much too big for the sounds of the morning bustle to penetrate Harry’s personal wing, so this is all very new to her. Even newer is the sound of someone rapping at her bedroom door loud enough to wake the dead.

The only person who ever does that is Gemma when she’s particularly excited about something going on that day. Somehow, Harry just knows the person outside her door is Louis, however, when Harry opens it, she doesn’t look very excited about the etiquette lesson they’re about to have. In fact, her expression is the exact opposite of excitement, leaning more towards nervousness.

She’s fully dressed in light blue which is a feat all its own at this time of morning. Her hair and fingernails have been scrubbed of all evidence of her adventures last night, and the sunshine pouring through the windows looks like gold against her skin. Louis looks amazing; better than any other girl here and without putting in half the effort, and yet her smile is tense.

“Good morning,” Louis greets.

“Uh, hi. Good morning,” Harry says back.

“Sleep well?”

“Uh, actually, not really...” Harry begins but before she can finish explaining her restless night, Louis interrupts with the real reason she was banging on Harry’s door.

“Why the hell do the formal place settings downstairs each have four knives, and four forks, but only two bloody spoons? That’s not normal, is it?” Louis asks skeptically. She sighs soon afterwards and comes to the conclusion that Lady Watson’s fucking with everyone.

Everyone bustling about the corridor pauses to look in their direction wearing scandalized expressions. Eventually, they start moving again and going about their business and Harry sputters a laugh. Louis laughs at herself too, until the more pressing matter of a test on formal dining etiquette comes back to her mind.

“Haz, this is serious! What the hell is anyone supposed to do with _four_ knives? At our house the _most_ we ever have is two and even that’s pushing it!”

Harry can’t say that she has had a lot of experience with formal dining apart from fancy palace events a few times per year. In everyday life, she and her family use one spoon, fork and knife too, but the situation isn’t hopeless.

“Don’t worry. I can help you, Louis,” Harry chuckles.

You would think Harry just offered to give Louis all the gold in the world from how relieved she looks. “Really, Haz? You’d do that?”

“Of course. I’d be glad to,” Harry assures her with a smile. It flickers once Harry remembers she’s still in her sleeping gown and her sleep-mussed hair probably resembles a giant curly bird’s nest. “Er- Right after I deal with all of this,” she says pointing to herself and the state she’s in. “Save me a seat when it’s time?”

“Done!” Louis beams before skipping off the way she came.

Harry goes downstairs once she looks more presentable, and right away, she can see why Louis was intimidated. There are more dishes and cutlery on the table than there are people in the house, and Lady Watson is standing at the head of the room, quietly watching them all.

As promised, there’s an empty seat next to where Louis is sitting the furthest distance possible from their instructor’s gaze. Harry ignores everyone as she makes her way over to Louis and slides into her seat right on time for their first official lesson.

Lady Watson wastes no time explaining how critical proper etiquette is in representing who a woman is. She goes on about how as women of high society, they will be judged on their table manners always and how dining etiquette is a skill they will use their entire lives. All Harry can think about is how hungry she is, finding out breakfast won’t be served until after their lesson. That, and how nervous Louis looks when Lady Watson finally commences their dry run.

She quickly picks up each piece that makes up their place settings and describes its function before randomly quizzing girls in the same fashion. The girls around the table confidently answer when they’re called upon, including Harry who could always remember where the dessert fork goes thanks to a song her sister made up when they were little. Harry can’t remember all the words exactly, but she remembers the most important bits. She kind of wishes she had thought of the song earlier when she first offered to help Louis. At least then, Louis would have more to rely on than just Harry when she’s called on next.

“Louise,” Lady Watson says, making Louis blink back. Harry can’t tell if it’s from the use of her whole name or because she was secretly hoping Lady Watson would skip her entirely. “For which course would you use the third knife in your setting? Quickly, now,” she commands.

“ _Shit_ ,” Louis swears under her breath as she looks down at the row of knives at her place setting. Her eyes move between the knife closest and furthest from her plate, seemingly unsure of which is actually third based on which direction she should be counting. She’s taking too long. Everyone is watching including Lady Watson who is growing more impatient by the second.

“ _Dinner knife_ ,” Harry whispers while pretending to be very interested in one of her wine glasses.

“The third course requires the use of the dinner knife,” Louis proudly grins.

Lady Watson doesn’t grin back. She merely gives a nod of her head to indicate that Louis is correct before moving on to interrogate someone else.

“ _Thank you_ ,” someone breathes on Harry’s left. It’s Louis of course, still grinning as she reaches over and gives Harry’s hand a light squeeze in appreciation. Her hand is so warm that Harry feels the effects of it in her cheeks that flush a light pink as a result. “ _I owe you one_.”

“ _Don’t mention it._ _We’ll help each other_ ,” Harry whispers back.

 _“Deal_ , _”_ Louis says, squeezing Harry’s hand one more time in a pact before letting go.

The rest of their lesson is relatively uneventful, however the two of them get into a bit of trouble later when breakfast is finally served and Louis decides to disregard all the lady-like etiquette they spent hours learning by shoving food in her mouth like she hasn’t eaten in days. She does it just to make Harry laugh, and it works. It works too well actually resulting in Harry spitting water into her lap, Louis choking on the multiple pieces of toast shoved into her mouth, and Lady Watson dismissing them from the table until they learn better manners. Harry doesn’t consider being banished upstairs a punishment though. How can it be when it gives her and Louis the rest of the morning to do nothing but laugh at the memory of the angry vein on Lady Watson’s forehead?

They seem to be always laughing or on the verge of it whenever they’re together which ends up being all day long, and that night is no different. After dinner, where Harry and Louis are graciously permitted to rejoin the rest of the group at the table, everyone heads upstairs for bed. This time, Harry and Louis also head upstairs like they’re told, however, they aren’t even in their rooms a full five minutes before they’re bored out of their minds and congregating in Louis’ room where they’re free to laugh and shove stolen sweets from dinner into their mouths all they want.

*

For most of Louis’ life, whenever she has woken up it has been to the sound of at least three other people snoring or _giggling_ if they happened to wake up first. Due to her huge family and the small manor house they outgrew years ago, she’s almost always squished on both sides or too warm. She usually gets a corner of the covers and a small slice of the pillow, and no matter what, Louis’ always exhausted and sore from being jostled, nudged, and prodded during the night from her two youngest siblings crawling into her bed because they can never manage to keep still, even in sleep.

Things have been so different ever since Louis left and arrived here at Pritchard house where she not only gets space to herself for a change, but her own personal bed as well. She can’t deny missing her sisters and brother because she _does_ miss them; terribly so. However, she can appreciate that for the last three days, she has woken up more comfortable than ever despite the fact that today, she’s not alone. Today, there’s an actual princess in her bed and snuggled against her meaning Louis is slightly squished, overly warm, and running low on personal space as per usual, but Louis can’t say that she’s bothered by any of it.

The two of them must’ve fallen asleep somewhere between swapping funny stories about home and sneaking down to the kitchen to sample the leftover sweets from dinner. It was past midnight when they decided they should part ways and try to sleep, but clearly Harry didn’t make it to her bedroom like they planned.

Louis looks down at Harry wedged beneath one of her arms with her head pillowed on Louis’ shoulder. Harry looks so comfortable there and she’s so far from consciousness that each deep breath she takes tickles against Louis’ neck and makes her smile. It’s almost like being back home for Louis, minus another half a dozen people treating her like a human pillow. 

She only notices she’s staring at Harry and has been for a while when the sounds of the rest of the house stirring pull Harry out of the dream making her eyelids flutter. She raises her head and looks right at Louis through long sleep-mussed curls, her expression confused at first until she realizes she fell asleep somewhere besides the place she was supposed to.

“ _Shit_.”

“ _Language_ ,” Louis chastises. As if she has any right with the things that come out of her mouth. “Good morning! Er- Hang on a sec,” Louis frowns, thumbing dried spit off Harry’s cheek and pushing her wild mane of curls away from her face to see her better. “There! You look radiant,” Louis chuckles.

Harry just groans, unable to stop herself from finding a bit of humor in the situation based on her stubborn grin. “Why didn’t you kick me out? I feel terrible,” she complains.

“Don’t know,” Louis laughs. “Guess I didn’t want to, did I?”

“Yeah, because you _wanted_ me hogging most of the bed and drooling all over you,” Harry jokes sarcastically.

Louis shrugs, kind of enjoying the slight tingle in her shoulder from having the weight of Harry’s head there all night. She also likes the weird little flutter her stomach makes when Harry finally sits up and the shifting of her hair leaves the air between them full of her scent. Louis can’t stop looking at her as she rubs the sleep out of her tired eyes and starts absentmindedly combing through her hair with her fingers even though Louis thinks it looks perfect as it is. It always does.

“So, what do you think Lady Watson’s making us do today?” Harry asks. “I don’t have the patience for table etiquette again. Too tired. And far too many knives.”

“Good. It’s not etiquette today,” Louis answers.

“Really?” Harry gasps. “What is it?”

“Dancing!” Louis reveals, spluttering a laugh when her friend’s entire face crinkles like a prune and she flops back on the bed with a pained noise appropriate for a day of waltzing on next to no bloody sleep.

Dance lessons aren’t nearly as bad as they were anticipating after a night of very little sleep. Yes, they’re exhausted, but at least they have someone to be sleep-deprived with as Lady Watson constantly reminds them to keep time and mind the heels of their feet. Louis of course has never waltzed a day in her life, and Lady Watson isn’t overly impressed with her improvisational moves. Dancing has never been Louis’ greatest talent and it probably never will be. The important thing is that Louis likes trying and she is having a blast with her dance partner who’s much lighter on her feet than she let on.

Harry started their lesson insisting that she’s practically useless on a dance floor; that her older sister, Princess Gemma, is the better dancer. It seemed likely that dancing would be challenging for Harry since her movements can appear a bit uneasy at times due to her height, but that’s not at all the case. None of her steps are perfect, but that’s not a bad thing. That’s what makes Harry’s dancing so wonderful, and it’s just one of the things that makes all the other girls admire her as much as they do now that they’ve stopped focusing on her title. Louis can’t believe it took them so long to realize how great Harry is because Louis could see it on day one. It’s what drew Louis to her.

*

After dance lessons comes lunch where Lady Watson keeps an eye on Harry and Louis from the moment she hears them conspiring to sit beside each other. They make sure to be on their best behavior though, meaning they wait until she’s not looking to disobey as many etiquette rules as possible before she remembers to glance over at them again. 

They have the rest of the afternoon free which Harry is very much looking forward to, however before Lady Watson dismisses them, she makes an announcement about the debutante ball which is just over a week away. She explains that there’s still a lot of work to do before then. According to her, a few girls’ table etiquette could still use some fine tuning. Louis manages to hold back a laugh when she receives a pointed look meant to indicate that ‘a few girls’ really just means her. Lady Watson says that they still need to work on whatever talent each person plans to debut on the night, and they need to sort out the gowns they’ve each brought to wear. She says that on a whole, their dancing is still atrocious, but hopefully they will all improve once they’re paired with the young men who will serve as their escorts at the ball.

The male half of this equation is something that no one has really mentioned since it was brought up their first night here. Honestly, Harry has been having such a good time that she forgot all about her mystery escort for the actual night. It seems Louis forgot too or she just didn’t care to begin with, fondly rolling her eyes at their excitable peers all gushing over their handsome, eligible dates that they haven’t even met yet.

Harry can’t wait to sneak off somewhere so she and Louis can have a proper laugh at the couple of girls already talking about the grandeur of their wedding days. When they’re finally dismissed, everyone leaves to go enjoy their free time. Harry is just about to suggest that she and Louis head to the secret pond they found the night they sneaked out, but she’s stopped by Lady Watson telling Harry to stay behind for a word.

“With Harry _only_ ,” she says looking at Louis who also stopped at the sound of Harry’s name.

The vein on Lady Watson’s forehead isn’t visible at the moment, so whatever she needs to say to Harry can’t be too bad, but still, Harry’s hesitant. 

“Just find me after. I won’t go too far,” Louis promises, giving one of Harry’s hands a reassuring squeeze before leaving her and Lady Watson alone as requested.

“Follow me, please,” Lady Watson instructs, turning on her heel and heading for the drawing room. Harry does as she’s told, dread settling in her stomach with every step as she wonders what she could’ve done that was so awful she needs to be reprimanded in private. Or, worst-case scenario, kicked out of the ball. A week ago, the prospect of being banned from this experience was all Harry wanted, but now that she’s here, the idea is unbearable. She doesn’t want to leave. It goes against everything in Harry, but she actually wants to stay. More than anything, she doesn’t want to say goodbye to Louis.

“Lady Watson, please,” Harry begs as they enter the drawing room. “I- I’m sorry. Whatever I did, I promise it won’t ever happen agai- er... _Oh.”_ Harry blinks back at the small white envelope Lady Watson takes from the little table near the window and holds out in front of her.

“This came for you this morning. It’s from the palace,” she explains, eyeing Harry with concern when she realizes she’s hardly breathing. “Are you alright?”

“Er- _Yes_ ,” Harry says once she recognizes the golden royal seal on the envelope and her name written across the front of it in her sister’s elegant handwriting. Thank god. Harry was so sure she was about to get the boot. “I’m fine. I’m just, uh, excited to hear from my sister.”

It’s not really a lie. Receiving something from Gemma is great, but not getting kicked out of debutante school is even better.

“Well. I’ll leave you to it then,” Lady Watson says before leaving the way she came.

Harry’s still coming down from the sudden panic she felt a few minutes before when she sits down at the little table with the envelope in hand. Her smile is immediate when she opens it and finds a letter tucked inside along with a large golden broach shaped like a flower and made of dark blue stones.

Gemma’s letter is everything Harry forgot she was missing as she reads about what’s been going on at home. She asks how Harry is and says the palace isn’t the same without her. She’s bored half to death having to keep herself entertained, however she’s also really proud of Harry and the wonderful woman she has become. Their mother wore the flower pin on her gown at her debutante ball and then gave it Gemma to wear at hers. Now, it’s being passed onto Harry. The letter ends with Gemma’s promise to be front row and center with their parents on the night of the ball to cheer Harry on, even if Harry does hate literally everything about it.

It’s a promise Harry plans to hold her to.

There’s parchment and ink at the table, so Harry quickly grabs some and begins writing out her reply.

‘ _Dearest Sister,_

_I miss you very much too! Thank you for bestowing the magical debutante broach unto me. It really is beautiful. I promise to wear it proudly on the night of the ball. This may come as a shock, but I’m actually looking forward to it; the ball. And, no, not because I get to leave that same night. You were right about these two weeks. I judged everything too soon, and like you, I’ve made one of my best friends here. Her name is Louis and you’re going to love her because she’s always getting into trouble and then charming her way out of it just like you. She’s so funny and witty and she’s so different from anyone I’ve ever met. She does the things she wants to do when she wants to and I find it so inspiring. I often find myself just admiring the person she is because her sense of adventure and freedom are almost contagious. Honestly, I could go on and on about Louis, but I’ve just realized the majority of this letter is already about her, so I’ll stop. Just know that, I’m excited to see you, I’m having fun here, and I’m feeling happier than ever._

_See you soon!_

_Haz_

Harry neatly folds the letter and places it inside an envelope that she gives Lady Watson so that it can be delivered. Once that’s done, she heads off to find Louis. She isn’t out in the garden or in any of the common rooms of the house. Harry assumes she’s upstairs in her room catching up on the sleep they missed out on last night, but when she gets to Louis’ door all Harry finds is a note poking out from under it with a clue that reads ‘ _Was feeling a bit parched_ ’.

It doesn’t take Harry long to work out where Louis went to quench her thirst, though it was a pretty clever way of pointing Harry in the right direction without giving away their secret spot.

The woods look so different in daylight, but Harry’s still able to find her way through them. She knows she’s in the right place when the pond comes into view along with Louis sunbathing next to it.

Her brow crinkles when her stream of sunshine is replaced by Harry’s tall shadow.

“Now, how am I supposed to think with you standing over me like that?” Louis grins from where she’s lying back in the grass.

“Think? About what?” Harry asks as she lies down next to her.

“About which flowers my escort slash future husband would like for our new house, obviously. What else?”

“Shut up,” Harry snorts, giving Louis a playful shove with her elbow.

“Oi. _You_ shut up,” Louis smirks, shoving Harry right back. “Flowers are a _lot_ to think about, you know. They’re a statement that can either make or break a room.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry laughs.

She’s pretty sure that unlike the other girls here, the last thing Louis cares about is home décor or her escort. Actually, besides her little brother back home, Harry hasn’t heard Louis talk about boys at all in the time they’ve been here.

Harry turns her gaze from the light blue sky to the sapphire pools of Louis’ eyes already staring back. They match the blue stone in the necklace that Louis never takes off; the one that belonged to her late mother. Harry knows that because Louis told her one night when they were up chatting when they probably should’ve been sleeping. Louis often speaks fondly of her family and friends, but Harry’s curious if there’s anyone close to her that she might be leaving out. 

“What?” Louis asks when Harry rolls onto her side and uses her elbow to prop herself half-up. “Jesus. _What_?” she laughs, noting the giant grin Harry’s sporting.

“Have you kissed a boy before?”

“Wow, H. _That’s_ the big gossip you want to know? _Seriously_?” Louis teases.

Normally, Harry wouldn’t just outright ask someone that because it’s rude to pry into people’s privacy. The only person she ever gets to gossip about this kind of stuff with is Gemma and she hardly ever kisses and tells.

“Oh, come on, Lou,” Harry begs. “I’m just curious. And I promise I won’t tell if you have.” Louis rolls her eyes at that, her resolve crumbling by the second with every bat of Harry’s eyelashes. “Please, please, please, please.”

Harry’s pleading is followed by a long sigh and a grin Louis can’t stop from pulling at the corners of her lips as she sits up and crosses her legs beneath her.

“ _Fiiiiine_. I’ll tell you,” she finally agrees. Harry sits up and cheers at her victory, but Louis cuts the celebration short. “BUT, only if you give _me_ the dirt first.”

That’ll be easy. Aside from a few awkward dances and chaperoned walks with the sons of noblemen and other royals, Harry’s experience with boys is practically nonexistent.

“Okay. Deal,” Harry chuckles. “So, this one time last summer, a marquess sat next to me at dinner. He followed me around and talked to me the whole weekend, actually. And when he and his family were about to leave the palace, he sneaked back to where I was in the great hall and said he wanted to kiss me.”

“Well, _yes_ , _obviously_. What boy wouldn’t?” Louis says making the pit of Harry’s stomach flutter in a way it never did that day with the marquess “So? Go on,” Louis presses. “What happened next?”

Harry frowns. “Oh, there is no next,” she snorts. “His parents realized he was missing and sent a guard to bring him back before he could get up the nerve, and I never saw him again after that, so. The end.”

Louis, who had been on pins and needles before, seems almost relieved to hear that nothing actually happened as she fondly rolls her eyes.

“So... your dirt is that you spent two minutes alone with an idiot.”

“He wasn’t an idiot,” Harry laughs. He was actually kind of alright, but she can’t convince Louis of that.

“Um, sorry, but he had the chance to kiss the most beautiful, amazing girl in the world and _didn’t_. What do _you_ call that?”

Harry’s not sure. Right now, all she’s able to really focus on is the part where Louis just called her beautiful and amazing. She focuses on that for much longer than she probably should. 

“...Uh, so,” Harry begins once the magic of those compliments becomes a soft hum beneath her skin, warming just as much as the sun on her face. “What about you? I sure hope you’ve got something better than my tragically dull story,” she laughs.

Louis smiles at Harry’s attempt at a joke, but it doesn’t reach her eyes as she sighs. “To tell you the truth, you’re not missing much. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” she says after a long while of just staring at the water before her.

Harry can feel her brow furrowing at her friend’s words and tone when she says them. “Well, what do you mean? Was the boy not nice to you? Did he hurt you, because if he did, I swear to God I’ll- I’ll-”

“Yes?” Louis grins at her. “You’ll what?”

“I’ll... have my parents strip him of his title and make him shovel cow shit. I don’t know, but something bad,” Harry laughs. "He deserves it if he was anything but a gentleman with you."

“Well, as grateful as I am to have a friend who would go to such lengths to protect my honor, it won’t be necessary here,” Louis smiles. “I’ve kissed a few boys, and they were all nice enough,” she explains, but there’s something in the way she says it that sounds contradictory.

“But?” Harry asks sensing a but coming and realizing she was right when Louis bites down on a grin.

“ _But_ , it wasn’t what I thought it would be,” she admits. “It’s like, I had this idea of what it would feel like, and for some reason, it just didn’t. The kisses were fine, but that’s all they were. It’s like something was just... _off_ , you know?”

“Uh... no, actually, I don’t,” Harry jokes, but she kind of wishes she did. She wonders if she would feel the way Louis does if the marquess had kissed her like he wanted to.

The two of them don’t say anything for a couple of minutes until finally Louis gently elbows her in the side.

“Why’d you ask about that anyway? Hoping to get more than a quick waltz out of your escort, eh?” Louis teases.

“ _No_ , shut up,” Harry blushes. “...I was just curious because everyone else here is always going on about marriage or escorts or ‘someone special’ back home.”

“Well, I’ll have to marry at some point. We all will.” Harry tries not to think about it more than she has to. She’s pretty much banking on her role as the second and less useful heir to protect her freedom for as long as possible. “One day, I’ll need to marry to help my family and this ball will improve my chances of marrying well. But, until that day comes, I think I’ve got all the special people I need,” Louis grins. Her thumb brushes over Harry’s in the grass, leaving little goosebumps in its wake despite the hot sun. Harry imagines feeling the sensation on her lips and her stomach is in fits, so perhaps kisses are supposed to feel something like that.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey, are you ready for this spectacle?”

Louis jumps at the unexpected question whispered into her ear. She realizes it’s only Harry a moment later, however knowing it’s her just makes Louis’ heart thud faster. It’s the most peculiar reaction to someone Louis now considers one of her best friends. She has never been more comfortable and at ease around someone as she is with Harry, and yet lately, when they’re together Louis feels the exact opposite.

Harry occupies the majority of Louis’ thoughts each day and even at night. Her stomach always feels like it’s about to take flight whenever they touch. Louis blushes if they lock eyes for longer than a few seconds at a time, the scent of her hair is sweeter than anything Louis has ever smelled, and somehow, the triumph of making Harry laugh feels like winning all the gold in the world. She can’t name what’s going on with herself. Louis’ not even sure what it is that she feels exactly, but it’s damn near impossible to ignore.

“Uh, I think I’m pretty ready,” Louis whispers back as the last of the girls file into the drawing room where they’re going to spend the afternoon working on their musical talents to perform at the ball. Most of the girls will play the piano because they’re fathers could afford lessons for their whole lives. Louis received some years of training before all of her siblings were born, but not nearly enough for her to be deemed ‘accomplished’ at it. The only thing she’s good enough at to earn that label is singing, but that’s only because her mother was such a beautiful singer. They didn’t need to hire a tutor because Louis’ mother was better than all of them combined.

In the end, Louis chooses her mother’s favorite song. And maybe it’s because Louis is the most confident about this activity out of all of them, or maybe it’s having Harry look at her like she’s the only person in the room when she sings, but her heart feels bathed in light.

It’s not until Harry plays her piece on the piano that Louis notices that light around her heart getting warmer and warmer until her whole chest is burning with it. That’s not something she can’t blame on anything or anyone else besides the perfect girl that Louis can’t take her eyes off of. It’s then that Louis realizes what she’s feeling may be something stronger than just a fast friendship.

She’s pretty sure what the feeling is called but she doesn’t dare think it because she also realizes that she can never ever have it. Only a fool would allow themselves to dream about a life that can never be; a life where it’s okay for Louis’ stomach to flip at the sound of a friend’s laughter and it’s okay for Louis to hate the marquess who wanted to kiss her because Louis wants to do it herself.

That’s not possible of course for a billion and one reasons. They both have duties and responsibilities to people; Louis to her family, and Harry to the whole bloody kingdom. They can never be what Louis knows they’re meant to be. She knows that. And yet, when Harry wants to sneak out again after dinner, Louis can’t say no.

*

Harry could probably count on one hand the amount of times she has had this much fun doing something she isn’t supposed to do. After dinner, Lady Watson ordered everyone upstairs to their rooms, and Harry obeyed. For a little while anyway; right up until she realized going to bed was the last thing she wanted.

She just had to be out of that house. She was too wound up. She felt too adventurous to just sit around waiting for morning, and she definitely didn’t want to wait it out alone. Harry couldn’t imagine it, especially with Louis right next door; the person who is the epitome of excitement.

The moon illuminates the woods enough for them to stumble through them the same as the first night they wandered away from the house in favor of mischief. That night, Louis led the way and Harry followed her without question. Something has changed in the last week because now Harry is the one leading them into the night with Louis holding onto her hand just trying to keep up.

“ _Hurry up_!” Harry laughs when the trees and brush start to thin out and the pond comes into view.

“I _am_ hurrying!” Louis counters. “My legs _are_ slightly shorter than yours, you know.”

Harry does know. She often notices how Louis’ almost a whole head shorter than most of the girls here. They practically tower over her petite frame so she often has to push her way to the front of the group or stand on her tiptoes for a clear view of whatever’s going on. It never fails to make Harry smile. In all honesty, these days, Harry’s smiling no matter what Louis does.

When they clear the woods and arrive at the pond, they’re both half out of breath. Harry flops back on a cushion of thick grass and wildflowers, catching her breath as she gazes up at the stars. It’s not long before she feels someone flop down next to her, the heat between them tingling Harry’s whole right side.

It’s dark out here in the middle of nowhere without even the light of a candle, but Harry is still able to make out Louis’ breathless smile and the crystal blue of her eyes staring back at Harry.

It’s like being struck by lightning the way Harry’s body wakes up whenever Louis is this close. Her skin burns with it like wildfire, so much so that Harry can feel her face getting flushed the longer she lies there.

“ _Now_ what?” Louis snorts when Harry suddenly sits up and starts fiddling with the laces of her boots. She eventually unties them and kicks them off, leaving them in the grass as she stands and makes her way towards the pond. “Where are you going?”

“Just here,” Harry answers over her shoulder, hoisting the hem of her dress up to her calves before gingerly stepping down into the shallow water. She expects it to be freezing because it was last summer when Gemma pushed her into the pond near the palace. This pond isn’t freezing though. Actually, the water is quite warm and feels wonderful against Harry’s skin as she puts both feet in.

There are crickets chirping in the woods all around them. Harry never hears crickets back home. They don’t have any, or maybe they do and Harry’s always too busy or distracted to notice them. She hangs her head back and sighs at how relaxing it is, grinning to herself when she hears someone else ditching their boots in the grass to come and listen with her. 

“Nice of you to come join me.”

“Shut up, you,” Louis commands, but the fondness in her grin takes all of the bite out of it.

With Louis beside her again, she feels more invincible than ever; like she can do anything. Be anything, even someone she’s never been before.

When she suddenly turns and climbs out of the water, Louis snorts a fresh laugh. “Now, where are you going? We literally just got i-in,” she breathes, falling silent as Harry begins removing her clothes. Harry shimmies out of her dress and her undergarments and leaves them in the grass next to her boots.

She only feels slightly awkward as she walks back towards the water’s edge, hyper-aware of the pair of eyes watching her every move. The night air is cooler on Harry’s skin now that there’s nothing to protect it. The water is still warm though. It’s almost like a bath as she walks through the mud and waxy grass beneath her feet, taking her deep enough until everything from her shoulders down is submerged.

In the short amount of time Harry has known Louis, she’s always the most spirited and spontaneous person in the room. That applies no matter where Louis is, however, nobody would know that by looking at her right now, frozen at the shallow end of the pond and so quiet Harry can hear her own heart thudding in her ears.

Maybe Louis doesn’t like to swim. That would explain why she’s acting so strange, but eventually she does move to follow Harry’s lead, so she knows that’s not it.

Just as Harry did, Louis climbs out of the water, inches of her skin becoming visible as she pulls her dress up and over her head. She lets it fall to the ground along with everything underneath until it’s just her standing at the edge of the pond looking more beautiful than anyone Harry's ever seen.

Louis’ descent into the water is a slow one that Harry watches every second of without ever taking a breath. Harry has never seen anyone so perfect, and she has never felt more nervous than when Louis stops in front of her as if they’re both drawn to that exact spot.

It’s rude to stare, but in this moment they’re both guilty of it.

They’re looking right at each other in a way that they never have before. It reminds Harry of the day the marquess approached her in the great hall, except this feels a million times more exhilarating. Harry’s breaths are bated with Louis’ gaze suddenly fixated on her lips. Her heart is racing in anticipation of whatever is about to happen; of what Harry _thinks_ is about to happen. Harry wasn’t kissed last summer and that was fine with her. She didn’t really want to kiss the marquess in the first place, but Louis isn’t him. Louis is just Louis. That's why Harry has never been more disappointed than the moment Louis starts to pull back from her rather than leaning in.

Watching how disconcerted Louis’ expression becomes removes every flutter from Harry’s stomach. “Lou?” she whispers, absolutely gutted as Louis takes two deliberate steps back to put space between them.

Louis pastes on a grin and Harry immediately knows it’s fake because her eyes look so pained.

“Lou, please. What’s wrong?” Harry tries along with reaching for Louis’ hand beneath the water. It just prompts Louis to put even more distance between them; two more steps. And it stings because above all else, being close to one another has always been their main priority. 

“Um... it’s late. We should probably get back,” Louis suggests after a silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

Louis has never cared about the hour before. The two of them have been out until nearly sunrise in the past, but Harry doesn’t point that out. She also tries not to take offense when Louis offers her another fake grin before getting out of the water.

Harry follows suit, however, she isn’t sure what just happened. One moment, things were so great between them, and then right as they were on the precipice of something big, whatever it was that was building between them fizzled out.

There’s no way to know for sure what that something was; what it could’ve been, but Harry grows more convinced by the second that Louis meant to kiss her. She didn’t, of course. That seems to be a running theme with Harry and almost-kisses. However, this time, Harry is bothered by the fact that nothing happened.

She’s crushed.

*

Louis’ barely breathing on the way back to the house, her hands shaking each time Harry so much as glances at her. It’s the first time that a look from her friend makes her heart race in a bad way and it’s not because of anything that Harry has done. It’s all down to the fear constricting Louis’ chest each time she thinks of how her lips almost touched Harry’s, and that despite her efforts to remain indifferent about their friendship, Harry now knows that Louis thinks of her in a way that she shouldn’t.

Nearly kissing Harry felt the way that Louis always imagined kissing someone should feel. Being in that pond with Harry was euphoric. Everything else faded away until it was just the two of them, and no matter how hard Louis tried to control the nervous fluttering in her stomach, she couldn’t. It was everything she ever wanted in a kiss; in a person she’s falling for, but that’s exactly why Louis didn’t follow through with it. Because even though Louis knows she has finally gotten it right, it’s still all wrong because the person she’s falling for is a girl. And not just any girl, but a bloody princess. Louis honestly couldn’t have fucked up this situation more if she tried.

Everyone seems to be asleep when the two of them get to the third floor. They stop outside of Louis’ bedroom as they do every night before going inside and staying up way too late. It’s the part of the day that Louis always looks forward to the most, but tonight she simply can’t do it. Her heart wouldn’t be able to bear lying next to her best friend and pretending friendship is all Louis wants from her.

Automatically, Harry takes a step forward to follow Louis when she opens the door. Louis goes inside her room and uses the door as a sort of buffer to keep Harry in the corridor. The confused and hurt look on Harry’s face is like a knife to the heart.

“Um... I’m actually not feeling well tonight,” she lies, and she feels terrible about it. Mostly due to the genuine concern in Harry’s eyes and her voice.

“Are you okay? When did you start feeling ill? I’ll go wake Lady Watson so she can call a doctor.”

“ _No_. Er- I mean, that’s okay, Haz. It was probably just the wine from dinner or something.”

“Oh,” Harry says and the worry lines on her forehead begin to fade. “I hadn’t realized you drank so much.”

That’s because Louis _didn’t_ drink very much. She was too preoccupied by the revelation that coming here to make herself suitable for a husband was futile because a husband isn’t at all what Louis wants. She isn’t sure what she wants exactly. That’s why she needs time to herself to figure it out.

“I’m sure I just need some rest and then I’ll be good as new,” she says with a tight grin. Louis feels perfectly healthy, but she must look miserable because Harry doesn’t press her on the matter. Instead, she wishes Louis a restful night and speedy recovery from whatever is making her sick.

A few moments later, Harry leaves to go sleep in her own room for the first time in days and Louis is able to take her first full breath since the pond. The door supports her weight as she slides down to the floor where she focuses on pulling air in and out of her lungs now that Harry isn’t there. It doesn’t work because even with Harry gone, she’s all Louis can think about. She’s all Louis can see when she closes her eyes thanks to her scent lingering in the air and on every surface she has touched.

Louis cannot believe how far she has let her feelings for Harry go without realizing just how deeply she’s in. Delusion is the only way to describe the excuses Louis made up to validate how drawn she is to Harry. She’s called it admiration, respect, fondness, high regard, and even extreme protectiveness of Harry; everything except the terrifying thing that’s really taken root in Louis’ heart. Love.

The next morning, Louis wakes up alone and she doesn’t like it. Usually, Harry is curled up next to her and passed out from talking herself to sleep sometime in the middle of the night. She isn’t currently taking up half of Louis’ bed with her long mane of curls splayed all over the place, but Louis wishes she was.

They’ve been apart less than a full night and Louis already misses her. That shouldn’t be possible given the amount of time they’ve known each other. It shouldn’t be possible for Louis to want someone so much when she knows can’t actually have her, but it is.

Louis sighs up at the ceiling because she feels more confused about Harry than anything else. They were friends. They are friends, but somehow the word means more with Harry. What they have is bigger than friendship and Louis doesn’t know how to make it go away. She never saw any of this coming. She always knew she was a bit different from girls her age, but she never realized just how different. Seeing Harry naked did something to Louis that she has never even come close to feeling about a man. And now, she’s unsure of what it all means. If it even means anything at all.

She wishes her mother were here to help her make sense of everything.

The rest of the house begins waking up as the sun rises higher in the sky which means Louis can’t hide in her bed forever. Lady Watson has a full day planned for them starting with breakfast so they’re ready to dive back into dance rehearsals. The last time they waltzed, she and Harry did more laughing and playing than actual dancing. It was the most fun Louis has had here and that should be true of today as well, however last night changes things. The only way Louis is going to figure things out is by taking time to think through this whole mess. And, the only way she’s going to be able to do that is if she’s not thinking of Harry every second of every day; a task that’s much easier said than done.

Louis realizes rather quickly that her plan isn’t going to work. It was foolish to think that something as trivial as space could dampen the very strong feelings she has for Harry. She tries distancing herself from Harry all day, but she grossly underestimated just how in synch the two of them have become.

She’s up and dressed before everyone else so she’s just heading down the stairs by the time Harry can be heard stirring in her bedroom. Louis is never early for anything, so Lady Watson is shocked to see her downstairs first, and oddly enough, alone.

At breakfast Louis allows a girl called Ingrid to take the seat next to her that usually belongs to Harry. When Harry finally arrives, her expression falls realizing the two of them can’t sit together. She quickly schools her face into mock indifference, awkwardly taking a free seat on the other side of the table. Sarah and Catherine are thrilled to have the princess beside them, and Harry makes friends with the girls pretty easily. However, she looks less than thrilled to have to chat with them instead of her usual partner in crime. She sneaks glances at Louis whenever there’s a pause in conversation. Louis’ stomach flutters from the attention, but then it quickly sours from having to pretend otherwise.

Dance rehearsals are even worse than breakfast. They are separated again but this time it’s not by Louis’ design. When Lady Watson pairs them with other people, Harry tries to protest it, but Louis doesn’t. Louis just lets it happen and the crestfallen look on Harry’s face is almost too much to bear.

They’re both so distracted that their counting and steps are off. Their lack of focus and proficiency at something they’ve practiced a million times before annoys Lady Watson so much that she pairs them together again in hopes that it’ll help improve their dancing. It doesn’t help of course. At least, it doesn’t for Louis anyway who realizes she instantly feels at home once Harry is in her arms.

It’s then that the butterflies in Louis’ stomach start to really fly, her heart skipping more beats than Louis during their waltz. Louis doesn’t really care that she’s an atrocious dancer and probably always will be. She has no desire to impress Lady Watson or her escort for the ball. The only person Louis cares about is Harry; the amazing person Louis should’ve kissed when she had the fucking chance. Not doing so is bound to be the biggest regret of her life.

*

Harry hasn’t spent very much time in her own bedroom since arriving here, but she has become very familiar with its four walls in the past twenty-four hours that Louis hasn’t been around.

Things were so perfect one night ago, and in an instant, it felt like everything changed. Harry has thought about that moment in the water and every moment leading up to it half a million times just trying to identify where things went wrong. So far, she can’t pinpoint anything that she did or said to push Louis away. One second, Harry’s heart was furiously pounding in her throat at the sight of Louis leaning in towards her, and the next, Louis was reacting as if the pond was on fire.

Louis said she wasn’t feeling well once they got back to the house, and that was about it. Harry didn’t exactly believe that at first because Louis had been perfectly fine before aside from being a bit quieter than usual. It’s possible something was bothering her, like perhaps she’s missing her family or Harry said something insensitive or dumb earlier in the day. However, it’s also possible that Louis was telling the truth about not feeling well and just waited until the pond to say so. And if that’s the case, Louis is in her room right now feeling miserable and alone.

Harry can’t just sit around knowing something isn’t right with her best friend. If their situations were reversed, Louis would already be here holding Harry’s hair, Harry’s hand, or offering a shoulder to cry on, no questions asked.

The bag beneath her bed contains Harry’s secret travel companion she’s had since Gemma passed it down to her when she was three years old and terrified of the dark. Harry is of age now and knows that nighttime is just daytime minus the sun. But, she still likes to take her night doll with her whenever she leaves the palace. Harry is just fixing her faded dress and yarn hair so she looks presentable for Louis, but there’s a tentative knock at her door before she can make any real improvement.

When Harry opens the door, she expects it to be Louis because she’s the only other person besides Harry who’s ever up after Lady Watson declares it bedtime. Her assumption is right. It is Louis at her door, but instead of looking homesick or ill, her blue eyes are fixed on Harry with a resolve and determination that has Harry’s heart pounding in her throat again.

“I’m such an idiot,” is all Louis says as a greeting, but Harry doesn’t mind. She’s just happy to see Louis okay and here.

All of a sudden, Harry’s nervous again just like she was the night before, but it’s a good kind of nervous. It feels like they’re standing on the edge of something and this time, they just might jump.

“Why? W- What makes you say that?” Harry’s breath catches when Louis steps even closer to her and takes hold of Harry’s free hand, pressing it to her chest where Harry can feel her heart racing through her dress. 

“I had the chance to kiss you and didn’t. That’s something only an idiot does.” Harry breathes a laugh, because she can’t really disagree with that logic. “It won’t happen again,” Louis vows as she leans in and sends them both hurtling over the edge with the kiss Harry’s waited for her whole life. 

“Are you alright?” Harry smiles at the girl currently sharing her pillow and holding on tight to her hand in the small space between them. It’s not the first time they’ve laid together in bed this way, but it is the first time she can put a name to the fluttery sensation in her stomach when Louis grins back at her.

She nods her head in answer to Harry’s question, bringing Harry’s hand up to her mouth to press a kiss to it to prove just how alright she is.

“And, are you still feeling ill at all...?” Harry asks next, half-convinced Louis kissing her was the result of a high fever and delirium.

This time, Louis shakes her head no. “I was never feeling ill. I lied about that,” she admits quietly.

Harry sighs hearing Louis confirm her guess from last night when Louis first started acting strange around her. She could feel it the instant things shifted. She just couldn’t figure out _why_ they had shifted; if she had done something wrong.

“I get it if you ever need time away from me. We’ve spent practically every second together, so.”

“Haz, no, that’s not... I didn’t not want to spend time with you,” she explains, a fond grin tugging at her lips. “The exact opposite actually.” Louis releases a shaky breath as she sits up on the bed. She faces Harry who sits up too with her heart rate slowly picking up speed the longer Louis looks at her without saying anything.

“I- I have to tell you something...” she begins. “It’s something, you’re probably not going to understand or even want from me, but. I need to try to say it anyway.”

“Okay, Lou,” Harry whispers. “I’m listening.”

“Good, because I love you. Pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

Harry wasn’t sure what to expect, but it’s not the impossible words Louis said without so much as a waver in her voice. They were only impossible because Harry never thought in a billion years that Louis could feel the same way that she does.

“I love you too, Louis.” It feels so good to get that out in the air where it can finally breathe. Harry’s whole body feels lighter with the honesty. Her stomach is so filled with butterflies she fears she might float right off the bed. “So, now what?” Harry chuckles thinking about everything that’s wrong with this picture since falling in love wasn’t exactly on the debutante ball agenda.

“Don’t know,” Louis snorts. “Also, don’t care.”

Harry doesn’t really care either. The only thing that matters right now is the way Louis’ lips feel pressed against hers.


	4. Chapter 4

When Louis first wakes up, for a few seconds, she thinks she’s still dreaming. It’s the only explanation for how immensely happy Louis is having Harry taking up half the bed and half of Louis while drooling, though she’d never admit it. It’s the best start to a day that anyone could hope for. Louis’ never been so fucking happy.

Harry finally wakes up around the time sunshine starts streaming in through her bedroom window. They say good morning in a new way that leaves Louis’ heart racing and her lips tingling. The kinds of morning kisses she’s used to come from giggling five-year-olds wanting their breakfast. Not much compares to Louis’ siblings and her love for them, but getting to be with Harry this way definitely runs a close second.

They’re late coming down to breakfast because they couldn’t bring themselves to leave the little haven of Harry’s bed until they absolutely had to.

Lady Watson isn’t thrilled when they arrive half-way through the meal, however Louis’ alleged illness serves as a pretty good excuse to keep her off their backs. It also turns out to be a good excuse for the two of them avoiding going outside for tea with everyone else after a long morning of gown fittings; something that turns out to be a much more difficult task than Louis expected.

The thing about gown fittings is that they require the person planning to wear said gown to stand perfectly still for hours on end while the seamstresses work. The process has always been boring the couple of times Louis has had to go through it, but that was when it was _just_ Louis, of course. That was when Louis was the only person stripping off down to her undergarments, and long before Louis figured out that her appreciation for the beauty of womens’ bodies is anything but objective. Especially where Harry is concerned.

During the fitting, Louis tried her best not to blatantly stare at Harry or make her thoughts quite so obvious to everyone else in the room. Louis gave that up almost as soon as the fitting began because it was impossible not to stare at someone so undeniably gorgeous.

Harry has never liked the fact that she’s one of the tallest girls here. She thinks her height makes her gangly and awkward compared to everyone else so that she stands out for all the wrong reasons, but it’s not true. There’s so much strength and elegance in her slender frame that Harry may not see, but Louis certainly does. Louis sees every wonderful thing about her. Every long line and curve she has is perfect, just like the clusters of tiny freckles that were peeking out at Louis from the most interesting places on Harry’s body that weren’t visible that night at the pond. Harry has them on the backs of her knees, her navel, and her shoulders. She even has a long trail of them running up the backs of her thighs until they disappeared behind the thin underwear covering the supple skin of her bum and prevented Louis’ imagination from going any further, but the damage was already done at that point. Louis fingers yearned to slip beneath the fabric and pull it even further down Harry’s hips. She wanted to kiss the faint birthmark over her left shoulder blade and spend hours getting familiar with the creamy skin on the insides of her thighs. Frankly, she wanted to get the fuck out of their gown fitting and she wanted to take Harry with her; the person who hadn’t exactly hidden the fact that Louis was on her mind too.

When they were finally dismissed for tea, Louis didn’t have anything. She couldn’t focus from all the thoughts racing through her mind, so when they were sent outside for free time, Louis opted out. She capitalized on her earlier excuse of not feeling one-hundred percent so she could go upstairs to her room, and Harry being the dutiful best friend that she is, chose to skip free time too in order to look after Louis. Lady Watson praised Harry for her sacrifice and for graciously volunteering to be so hands-on with a friend. And, honestly, Louis couldn’t agree more.

It’s exhilarating knowing that no one else is in the house and that nobody is going to show up when they hurry upstairs so fast they nearly trip on the hems of each other’s dresses. They shut Louis’ door behind them and then fall into bed together, breathless from getting there so quickly and their long overdue kisses.

Louis’ breathing picks up with Harry’s weight pinning her down and her hands grazing every curve Louis has. She’s holding in all the sounds Harry is pulling out of her until she realizes they don’t need to be so quiet. Everyone can be heard outside including Lady Watson, so when Harry’s tongue finds its way into Louis’ mouth, she allows herself to release a moan that had been building up inside her from the moment their lips first touched.

Harry must come to the same conclusion about their freedom to make as much noise as they want, gasping when Louis playfully bites at her bottom lip. They roll until Harry’s the one lying against the mattress, her breaths becoming less even when Louis follows her instincts of what feels right and starts kissing down her neck. The soft sounds falling from Harry’s lips encourages Louis to keep going, kissing each of her breasts over the dress blocking her from tasting more of Harry’s skin. One of Louis’ hands is already playing with the hem of it, slowly dragging it up Harry’s legs. The reaction she gets is even better than the ones before it, so Louis goes even further, feeling until her fingers come into contact with the underwear Louis wanted so badly to remove. She doesn’t do it. Mostly, because she isn’t sure Harry would want her to, but she can’t resist massaging her fingers over the sweet-smelling wetness soaking through the fabric.

It makes Harry jump, her eyes flying open to look down her chest at Louis yanking her hand from the place it probably shouldn’t have wandered in the first place. She’s a bloody princess for fuck’s sake, and here Louis is feeling her up like she has any right to do so.

“ _Shit_. Sorry. Er- I mean- Was that okay?” Louis cringes. “I’m sorry. I can stop if you want me to,” she tries, but Harry violently shakes her head.

“No, don’t. Please. You just- caught me off guard a little.”

Harry breathes a laugh and finally Louis can breathe again too, realizing she didn’t offend or cross the line like she feared. Her stomach flutters like mad when Harry takes hold of her hand and redirects it to where it had been. However, a sound from directly outside her bedroom makes them both freeze before Louis can pick up where she left off.

At first, Louis thinks they imagined the footsteps in the corridor but then the door handle begins to twist and suddenly the two of them are moving to disentangle themselves like their skin is on fire.

Harry has just enough time to sit up and pull down her dress before the door creaks open. Louis expects it to be Lady Watson, and it is, but she’s accompanied by a girl they’ve never seen before who is about their age with fiery red hair all twisted and pinned up on her head. She’s dressed lavishly, but for travel. There are expensive-looking bags at her sides and after she frowns at Harry and Louis blinking at her with wide eyes, her gaze possessively moves to the empty bed on the opposite side of the room; the bed that clearly won’t be empty anymore since it belongs to this girl who didn’t arrive with everyone else due to _actual_ illness.

“This is _Louis’_ room. Why are you both in her bed?” Lady Watson asks instead of a greeting or introduction. “And why are you both so flushed in the face. Harry, dear, are you now feeling ill as well?”

“Er- _Yes!_ ” Harry quickly agrees. “Yes. I, uh, I must’ve caught whatever Louis had yesterday.” That’s literally the last thing Lady Watson wanted to hear because the vein on her forehead makes an appearance as she sarcastically mutters that a house full of sick debutantes is just what she needs three days before the ball.

“You said ‘ _had_ ’ meaning Louis is no longer ill?” she asks with an impatient huff. Harry and Louis nod at the same time, prompting Lady Watson to pinch at the bridge of her nose where a headache must be forming. “Well, if that’s the case off to your own room before you pass it back to her _or_ give it to Lydia who was finally able to come here _today_ ,” she orders Harry, watching her scurry off Louis’ bed in the least graceful fashion ever. She even stumbles over her own pigeon-toed feet on her way to her room.

If they hadn’t just come so close to being caught, Louis would laugh.

*

Harry grins up at her ceiling that night thinking how incredibly bored she’s been being quarantined in her room most of the day, but also thinking about how completely worth it it all was. She has zero regrets about nearly getting caught with Louis. Honestly, if she could she’d do it all over again.

The idea of Louis kissing her and touching her the way she did this afternoon takes root in Harry’s mind, and the butterflies in her stomach spring to life. They’re nothing new at this point, but the fire at the pit of her stomach that grows and spreads until her whole body is hot and tingly all over.

That’s how she felt with Louis today until they were interrupted. Her heart races imagining how it would’ve felt if Louis hadn’t stopped touching her; if Harry had gotten the chance to touch Louis too. She thinks she just might find out when a knock on her door causes her to sit bolt upright and sprint for the door that she prays doesn’t have Lady Watson or some other person waiting behind it with more bloody tea.

Her prayers are answered. Well, sort of. There is someone there holding a fresh cup of get-well-soon tea and smirking at Harry like the beautiful little shit that she is.

“Feeling any better, your highness?” Louis teases.

“Shut up,” Harry snorts watching Louis take a sip of the tea Harry doesn’t even need.

“So... What have you have been up to in there all alone?” She looks past Harry and into her single bedroom, though Harry doesn’t miss the way Louis’ gaze catches on Harry’s nightgown. It’s so thin she can probably see right through it with help from the candle light. She stares a bit too long for it to be accidental. Knowing Louis is looking just makes Harry want to drag her into the room even more than she did originally.

“I haven’t been up to much...” Harry grins at her. “Thinking mostly.”

“Oh?” Louis asks Harry’s breasts followed by her lips. Her gaze never moves from there as she visibly swallows hard and attempts to keep the conversation going. “A-About what?”

“What do you think?” Harry snorts before yanking Louis into her bedroom for a deep kiss against the door Harry makes sure to lock.

They spill tea everywhere including on themselves, but Harry doesn’t care if her nightgown is wet because she plans on taking it off anyway.

They fall into bed again and thankfully, get much further than they did before. Louis’ lips are bright red from how hard they’re kissing one another, her long hair falling out of the simple pin that was holding the front pieces of it back. She wastes no time getting Harry back to the breathless state she was in earlier today. She doesn’t bother with blindly feeling around between Harry’s legs this time, stripping Harry completely out of her night gown so every inch of her skin is exposed. It’s exhilarating being looked at like she’s special and touched like it’s all Louis has ever wanted to do.

Harry certainly understands having such an urge to touch. This moment is all she has dreamed of today too, but really, it’s only half of what she wants. Out of the two of them, Harry’s already the least experienced, so she wants to be with Louis in every way possible. And in case something else happens to interrupt them again, or this is the only chance Harry gets to make Louis feel this good, she wants to take full advantage of it. She’d never forgive herself if she didn’t, so without hesitation, she strips Louis out of her dress to return the favor. She’s not very confident about what she’s doing, but every caress and angle she tries it from gets a pretty positive response. Harry follows Louis’ cues and her own instincts until Louis is shaking and dripping wet. Harry doesn’t expect the sharp gasp that comes next, but she totally understands that reaction later on when Louis pushes her back against the mattress to try her hand at it.

The next day, Harry is miraculously cured of her illness and Lady Watson couldn’t be happier to hear it because rehearsals for ball night start today and according to her they have a lot of work to do. She comments on how well Harry looks after a day of rest which is ironic considering neither she or Louis slept much last night. They stayed up half the night sometimes kissing, sometimes going further, but mostly just talking like they always have. Of course, things were a bit different this time around since Louis now has a roommate who was expecting her to sleep in their room. Louis crept to her own bed at some point once Harry had already fallen asleep because she woke up alone, however there was also a small note on the other pillow where Louis should’ve been that read, ‘ _Wish I were there. See you at breakfast. Kiss you soon Xx_ ’. Harry immediately folded it up and put it in her bag where it’ll be safe until she wants to take it out the next time she wants to smile from ear-to-ear.

Harry was never sure what falling in love would feel like. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to tell when it had actually happened, but there’s no doubt that love is what has happened to her over the past two weeks; it’s what has happened to _them_. That becomes obvious when Louis finally comes downstairs for breakfast and smiles like sunshine itself because not only did Harry save her a seat, but she grabbed the two portions of strawberries and put them on Louis’ plate because they’re Louis’ favorite and always get eaten up by the group first. When they practice their singing and playing again to showcase their talents, Louis applauds Harry so obnoxiously that Lady Watson has to give a speech about decorum. Harry has never seen their instructor more annoyed than when she has to give the same lecture again after Harry applauds Louis’ performance just as loud and unabashedly.

Their second round of gown fittings go about as well as they did the first time around except now Harry doesn’t have to wonder how soft Louis’ skin feels or what it tastes like. Harry can feel Louis’ eyes on her as her dress receives its final alterations. She feels okay in the all-white gown that’s reminiscent of a cloud, but it’s not until she catches Louis smiling at her from across the room that she starts to feel beautiful in it. Not that anything Harry wears to this ball could ever be as breathtaking as Louis in her white gown. It’s older than any of the other girls’ dresses and Harry is almost certain it’s a wedding dress that belonged to her mother at some point, but Louis looks incredible in it. She looks like a princess. A far better one than Harry could ever hope to be, that’s for sure.

That night, instead of sneaking into Harry’s room, they sneak out and head to their own little corner of paradise. They don’t run to their secret spot this time. Neither of them is dragging the other by the wrist or tripping over her own feet. They actually walk, taking time to look up at the stars and down at the summer flowers at their feet.

It’s odd seeing Louis look so happy yet quiet and pensive at the same time. If Harry didn’t know any better, she’d think Louis was trying to distance herself from Harry again. But, the gentle, sure way that she kisses Harry when they sit down in the grass together makes Harry feel like they’ve never been closer.

They don’t talk very much while they’re at the water or during the trip back. They save most of their conversation for Harry’s room where they lie down next to one another. Louis runs her fingers through Harry’s wild curls and she’s grinning as she has been all night, but something feels sad beneath her happiness.

“What is it?” Harry asks, admiring the way her eyelids flutter open to reveal the deep blue depths hidden behind them. Louis stops carding through her hair, holding Harry’s hand instead and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Nothing, love. I’m beyond perfect,” she smiles. Harry wants to trust it, but something is telling her not to.

“Well, _something’s_ wrong with you,” Harry smiles back. “You’ve barely said ten words all night. Usually, it’s impossible to shut you up.” That makes Louis laugh because they both know it’s true. They both also must realize that something is off.

She can tell the exact moment Louis admits it to herself because her eyes aren’t nearly as sparkly.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot about the ball.”

Harry can’t say she expected Louis to say that since she has pretty much joked and stumbled her way through this entire process, to Lady Watson’s dismay. “Looking _that_ forward to it?” Harry teases, her grin fading when Louis shakes her head.

“Not really. It’s just the opposite actually because in a day this will all be over,” she whispers, and suddenly, Harry is barely breathing. 

It’s not like Harry hasn’t thought of that before. When she did, she felt so sick to her stomach that she decided right then and there to avoid thinking about it again until she had to. She guesses that time is now.

She has no plan and from how scared Louis now looks, she knows Louis doesn’t have one either, but it doesn’t matter. They’ll think of something; some answer that will allow them to keep one another in their lives. They have to.

“Love, nothing about us is going to be over after the ball. Not even close,” Harry argues. “We love each other. That doesn’t just _end_.” What they have goes beyond this place, but Harry knows she’ll have a hard time convincing Louis of that.

“Right, Haz. And how exactly does that work? A princess set to marry some prince sometime in the near future, and me, set to marry whoever is willing _and_ will help take care of my massive family?” she says followed by a humorless laugh that only tightens Harry’s chest because _Harry_ is willing to commit to Louis. _Harry_ would take care of her and her family, no questions asked. It would be an honor rather the burden Louis thinks it would be. “Unfortunately, we both have responsibilities to people other than ourselves. I wish that wasn’t the case, but.”

Her words taper off and it hurts Harry because these are the kinds of thoughts that have been keeping her so quiet. These are the fears that make her dread the night turning into a fresh morning. She sounds so defeated already, but Harry knows there is hope.

“But, Lou, I’m _not_ the heir to the throne. I’m just the second born. And, I guess technically I could marry a prince, but I don’t want to. I want to be with _you_.”

Louis gives her another dark chuckle. “Well, you may not be the heir, _your highness_ , but you are still a princess whether you like it or not.”

Again, there’s truth in Louis’ argument, but she’s also not completely right.

“I don’t _have_ to be a princess, you know,” Harry says matter-of-factly. “It’s a birthright, but there are options if for some reason I want out.” Louis is as good a reason as there could ever be.

Harry wouldn’t be the first royal in the world to decide she doesn’t like being one. She’d let down some of the most important people in her life by renouncing her title, but afterwards, she’d have her best friend and the love of her life forever.

“Haz,” Louis sighs, now sitting up and gesturing for Harry to sit up too so she can hold both of her hands. “I’m so flattered, but, no. I’d never forgive myself and neither would you.”

It would be a painful trade-off. Harry thinks that in time, she could grow to be okay with her choice, especially if she got Louis in the end, but Louis is probably right. Her heart would be missing almost all of the pieces that make it whole. There has to be another way.

“Okay, then. If I can’t leave behind palace life, then maybe we can find a way to bring _you_ in,” Harry smiles. “We can make up some sort of role or job that allows you to be there. You can be the royal... I don’t know. We’ll work on the title, but, something that sounds really official.”

“I don’t know, Haz. Wouldn’t that look strange? Some poor baron’s daughter making good with the king and queen overnight and then getting some big important post that’s never been heard of. There are people who have waited _years_ for opportunities like that and those people actually earned it.”

Now that Harry is thinking about it, she supposes it wouldn’t be very fair for them to get what they want by lying. Harry’s family would also have lots of questions because Louis’ family isn’t as well known as others. On to plan _C_ , then. “Okay, so maybe lying isn’t the best choice to get you in, but what if we didn’t lie?”

Louis gives her an incredulous look before explaining how much she enjoys her head and how she would very much like for it to stay attached to her body.

“No, I don’t mean the _actual_ truth,” Harry snorts. “Not about _us._ I meant about you taking a real role at the palace. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before, but my sister and I have had ladies-in-waiting on and off throughout our lives.” A couple of them were even daughters of Barons. “Right now, neither of us has one because they’ve either married and left or decided palace life wasn’t for them.” Harry hasn’t had a lady-in-waiting in about a year. Truthfully, Harry has never had much use for a lady-in-waiting because she likes doing things herself. But, aside from duties and responsibilities around the palace, ladies-in-waiting are basically just close friends; life-long companions just like the Queen’s ladies who have known Harry and Gemma from the time they were born.

Louis becoming her lady-in-waiting wouldn’t even raise eyebrows because it just makes sense. She and Louis became the closest of friends. They now mean more to each other than anything, and now, they’re going to continue nurturing that bond with Louis as an official member of the court. They could live together in the palace. The two of them could make sure Louis’ family is taken care of, the two of them could love each other the way they’re meant to love each other, and the rest of the world would be none the wiser. It’s so perfect that even Louis is smiling after a few minutes of letting the idea sink in.

“You really think it’s possible? That we could really be together and everyone would be okay with it?” she asks after a while, sounding more hopeful and much less terrified than before, though she still seems wary. Harry can’t say that she totally believes they can achieve the impossible either, but she is optimistic about their dream.

Harry thinks they should be allowed to love whomever they want, however they want. They’ve both made their choices. Everything else is backdrop.


	5. Chapter 5

Louis has always felt a little silly getting dressed up. She never feels quite like an adult even though she’s far from being a child. Fancy shoes and giant gowns are so uncomfortable compared to the simple dresses and worn-in boots she prefers. And no matter how much she tries to exude beauty and poise, she never looks as refined as other girls her age. However, looking in the mirror at her mother’s wedding gown that fits as well as the long white gloves on her hands, she realizes she doesn’t look or feel like a ten-year-old playing dress up with someone else’s things. She feels confident and strong like she can take on anything. And she’d like to attribute all that newfound confidence to Lady Watson, but Louis knows there are many others responsible for her transformation into the beautiful woman standing in the mirror, herself included.

Her hair was pinned up by Louis’ roommate who offered to help when she noticed Louis struggling to achieve something more elegant than how she usually wears her hair. Only a few thin tendrils are left out of the intricate bun that helps show off her mother’s necklace that finally looks like it belongs around her neck. She feels beautiful, which is so different from how Louis expected to feel on her last night here.

Louis has been terrified of this ball and every moment that would follow it once she realized she’d fallen in love with someone she probably shouldn’t have, but her heart didn’t really give her much choice in the matter. This is the night they all are supposed to pack up their things, say goodbye to one another, and return home with their families. Louis has been making herself sick trying to come up with something to say to the girl who changed everything; the woman who will own Louis’ heart for the rest of her life, whether they’re together or apart. As of two nights ago, together is what they’re both banking on, giving Louis the freedom to stop anticipating the worst and to start living and appreciating what she has right now.

She decides she looks about as nice as she’s going to for tonight and steps back from the mirror. Everyone else has already headed downstairs to meet their escorts including Louis’ roommate. Louis should probably head in that direction soon before Lady Watson comes looking for her, but she doesn’t want to go just yet. She stayed behind intentionally in hopes of seeing Harry before they begin playing debutantes for the night. And just as Louis hoped, a few seconds later, someone softly knocks on her bedroom door making Louis more nervous than she does about having to waltz in front of all of the kingdom’s bloody elite.

It’s Harry, of course. Louis could feel in it her bones before she opened the door to greet her. However, seeing her makes the greeting Louis was planning die on her lips.

Harry is always a beauty to behold. That’s a given on any day, but tonight she is especially radiant. Her gown is much newer than Louis’ and fits her perfectly so she looks exquisite, though it wouldn’t matter if Harry were wearing rags to the ball because she looks amazing in anything. The styling of her hair is more similar to Louis’ except her thick curls are adorned with tiny white blossoms to match her dress. She must’ve picked them from the garden sometime this afternoon along with the single red rose she’s holding out towards Louis.

“For you,” she whispers, her sweet dimples setting free every butterfly in Louis’ stomach.

She accepts the flower with a smile she couldn’t hide if she wanted to. She takes the time to appreciate the fresh scent of it before placing it down on the small table near the door.

“Thank you. Though, now I feel bad I didn’t get _you_ anything,” Louis teases only for Harry to claim she already has everything she could ever want. Louis’ stomach flutters again as she leans in to kiss Harry the way she has wanted to for the past few hours they’ve been apart. “You look amazing. You’re all anyone is going to be able to look at tonight,” Louis chuckles once they pull back from one another.

“Um, I’m flattered, but I have to disagree,” Harry smirks. “ _You’re_ the one people will be looking at.”

“Sweet, but I think you forget sometimes that you’re a literal princess,” Louis snorts. “People stare.”

“And I think you forget that you’re absolutely gorgeous,” Harry counters. “Trust me, when you walk into that ballroom, they won’t even know I’m there.”

Louis can feel herself blushing from Harry’s compliments, her stomach doing a full flip when Harry suddenly removes the sparkly, flower-shaped broach from the front of her gown and fastens it to Louis’ instead.

“H-Haz, I can’t. This looks really... _special_.” _Expensive_ is what Louis really means by that. It looks so fine and fragile that Louis is hardly breathing as Harry pins it to her chest from fear of breaking it somehow.

“Nonsense. It looks great with your necklace and it deserves to be admired. Only way that’s going to happen if it’s on you,” Harry mutters, her brow furrowing and the tip of her tongue sticking out while she secures the accessory that’s probably worth more than Louis’ whole family estate. “There! It’s perfect!” she beams once she’s done.

Louis finally allows herself to breathe again as she looks down at herself. It feels like she’s wearing a piece of the night sky. She’s still terrified of something happening to the broach, but she can’t lie and say it isn’t stunning.

“So, are you ready to pretend to be interested in our escorts and forget which of the eight dozen spoons are for the soup?” Harry teases. Louis laughs at the thought of them doing the things they’ve been learning with _out_ taking the piss for a change. If Louis pulls off this waltz, Lady Watson may actually faint.

“Almost ready,” Louis answers, loving the sight of Harry’s shy smile when Louis offers her an arm before starting down the empty corridor. They aren’t each other’s escorts tonight, but they should be. And she knows she’ll have to give Harry up once they’re downstairs, but until that moment comes, Louis takes great pleasure in having Harry at her side, right where she belongs.

*

Harry can’t remember the last time she was this nervous. Never, probably. She’s been to a dozen balls in her life, and not one of them has ever made her heart race like it is right now standing on the grand staircase and receiving families and guests as they arrive through the front door. Her palms are sweaty and probably soaking the evening coat of her escort, the future Duke of Acryss, an apprehensive-looking boy who practically stopped breathing earlier today when he found out which debutante he’d be keeping company this evening. He hasn’t said very much to Harry. He’s too frightened to, however Harry almost prefers that to Louis’ escort, the future Earl of Bryden who hasn’t stopped complimenting her or talking her ear off about his father’s sailboats since being introduced.

Harry can’t help but grin while eavesdropping on the Earl asking if Louis has ever visited Bryden and then eagerly inviting her along for his family’s next sailing day.

“Er- _Wow_ ,” Louis whispers on the step above Harry and her date. “Thank you. Really. That sounds incredible, but, unfortunately, I have a terrible fear of water, so.”

“Oh,” the Earl mutters disappointedly and Harry feels for him because she has first-hand knowledge of how it feels to want nothing more than to get to know Louis. The Earl quickly picks himself up though by dropping all things to do with water and inviting Louis on another adventure. “Do you hunt?” he asks. Harry nearly spits into the girl’s hair in front of her hearing Louis explain how she also has a phobia of gunpowder and the sun.

Harry feels the toe of a shoe nudge her in the calf. It’s probably meant to be retaliation for finding amusement in her new admirer, however it just makes Harry smile harder.

Contrary to what the Earl may have been hoping for, he probably won’t be winning Louis’ heart on the waters of Bryden or introducing her to his family at their country estate this summer. That is very unfortunate for him, however it’s perfect for Harry who has plans of introducing Louis to her family tonight. Louis will do the same with her family and Harry, and maybe that’s why Harry is feeling so ridiculously nervous. They’re each meeting the people who mean the most to them.

Louis’ family is huge. She isn’t expecting them to all show up tonight, however, the sheer joy on her face is undeniable when her father and the eldest of her younger sisters enter the house arm-in-arm. They are received by rows of polite nods and smiles; the debutantes’ first big test in etiquette of the night. Louis’ father and sister immediately spot Louis on the staircase, each of them mouthing how beautiful she looks before they’re taken to the ballroom where the rest of the guests are waiting for the night to begin. Louis looks like she has half a mind to ditch her escort and to go follow them and greet and kiss them properly, however a stern look from Lady Watson keeps her planted on the staircase with the rest of the pretty little dolls on display.

Harry can understand the way Louis is feeling because she hasn’t seen her family in weeks either. They take forever to arrive, but finally, Harry’s mother and big sister walk in causing much more of a stir than Harry had anticipated. Harry’s title has pretty much lost its effect amongst everyone in the house, but the sight of Queen Anne and Princess Gemma makes them all hold their breaths.

The two of them aren’t famous royals to Harry. They are just her amazing, sometimes annoying family. So, when they smile up at Harry, she smiles back twice as big because even though Harry has loved her time here in the country-side, she still missed them.

Once all of the evening’s guests have arrived and Harry’s escort has resumed breathing again after the shock of seeing both the Queen and future Queen at once, they are all dismissed from receiving duty. Their next task is being individually announced followed by talent showcases, and then dinner, and waltzing somewhere in between. But, they have a few minutes before all that madness starts. Most girls go to the ballroom to say a quick hello to their guests, including Harry. The only difference is Harry brings Louis to say hello too.

Harry can hear Louis’ footsteps slowing and her hand tensing each step closer they get to Harry’s mother and sister. They’re mingling by the tables with Lady Watson who doesn’t look at all surprised to see Harry and Louis approaching.

“Haz, wait. M-Maybe you should talk to them by yourself first. I can always meet them once they’re more settled and less likely to hate me,” Louis suggests only for Harry to snort a laugh.

“ _Hate_ you? They’re going to _love_ you! I already wrote Gemma all about you.”

That little tidbit of information makes Louis stop dead in her tracks, her blue eyes wider and more fearful than Harry has ever seen them.

“Hey, hey, hey. None of that,” Harry whispers. She wishes she could kiss away every worry Louis has, but she can’t right now. Not in front of all these people, so she settles for affectionately tucking a rogue ringlet of hair behind her ear while still holding tight to one of her hands. They may appear totally innocent halted in the middle of the ballroom together, or it could look like Harry is taking the time to comfort the woman she loves. She doesn’t care either way. All that matters right now is Louis and making her understand she has nothing to be scared of. “I love you.” Harry probably shouldn’t say that while they’re quite literally surrounded by people, but it’s true and Louis needs to hear it. “If my family really want what’s best for me like they claim, then that means they’re going to love you too.”

“Yeah,” Louis says mostly to the ballroom floor. “But still. What if they don’t?” It’s such a ludicrous question because everyone loves Louis. She’s like the bloody sun. It’s why Harry stood a chance since day one.

“Not possible,” Harry smiles.

Eventually, Louis nods, allowing herself to be guided over to Harry’s family who politely excuse themselves from Lady Watson to meet Harry half-way. Harry isn’t sure who hugs whom first, but suddenly her arms are full of Gemma and then their mother, both women making Harry’s heart feel so overjoyed it’s practically bursting.

“Look at you! You’re gorgeous!” Gemma gushes. “ _Both_ of you!” she amends once she notices the person standing just behind Harry.

“Mum, Gemma, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. This is-”

“Louis,” the Queen says knowingly. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Gemma and I both have. It’s an honor to meet someone my daughter admires so much,” she grins.

Louis curtsies so low that for several moments, only the top of her head is visible, but Harry’s mother gently places her hand beneath Louis’ chin and raises it until she’s able to see the crystal blue of her eyes.

Harry’s mother has always had great intuition, particularly when it comes to people. Just as Harry hoped, the Queen seems fond of Louis already.

“That’s a very beautiful gown,” she comments and finally Louis is relaxed enough to sport a proud grin.

“Thank you, your majesty. It belonged to my late mother. The necklace too.”

“It’s lovely, and it matches the broach perfectly,” the Queen smiles. “It hasn’t been worn since Gemma’s debutante ball a few years ago, and my own debutante ball many years before that.” Harry hadn’t mentioned the origins of the broach she decided to pin it to Louis’ gown. She looks like she’s going to fucking faint realizing she’s wearing something that belongs to Queen Anne.

“Your Majesty. I- I’m _so_ sorry,” Louis tries only for the Queen to wave off the apology.

“Oh, nonsense. This broach never belonged to anyone else. It was made for _your_ blue eyes. You’re the true owner,” she grins, taking Louis’ hand in hers. “And, if your mother could see you tonight, I’m sure she’d agree. I knew her a little. We met here too. You look just like her.”

That is probably the biggest compliment someone could give Louis, and now she can’t stop smiling or blushing. It only gets worse as Gemma suggests that Louis come visit the palace someday to see what other jewelry would suit her. _And_ to stop Harry from constantly whining about missing Louis as she is sure to do the moment they’re back home.

Harry kind of takes offense to her older sister knowing her so well. However, Harry can’t pass up this change in topic which just so happens to be the perfect opportunity to pitch her and Louis’ big plan to the person who can make it happen.

“Actually, Mum, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about...” Harry begins, the pounding of her heart quieting when Louis takes a step forward to stand next to her. “Something _we_ wanted to talk to you about,” Harry amends, praying to whoever may be listening that this works.

*

This night has already gone better than Louis could’ve ever imagined, and it’s only getting started. To be fair, she did nearly piss herself meeting Harry’s mother and sister, but they were both so wonderful and kind that Louis is still reeling. Harry was right, she had absolutely no reason to be scared of meeting them. But, now, Harry is the one needing to be convinced of that fact because she suddenly looks just as nervous as Louis did, as they approach Louis’ father and sister.

Funnily enough, they’re more excited to meet Harry than anything else, already extending invitations for the Princess to come visit Louis as often as possible. Louis’ family draws the same conclusions as Harry’s family in a matter of minutes. That Louis will be inconsolable once she’s back home. That she is sure to miss having such a dear friend around. And they’re more right than they know. Louis would be completely inconsolable without her best friend; her soulmate. But, thankfully, their prayers were answered just a few minutes ago, so none of that has to happen.

For two weeks, Louis looked at tonight with dread, knowing that saying goodbye would be the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. She wasn’t wrong in anticipating a big farewell. It’s just a different kind of farewell that’s going to ache just as badly if not worse because the whole point of Louis coming here was to make a future for herself. It’s just that none of them thought that would happen quite so soon.

“Lottie, Father... there’s something important I need to tell you, and when you hear it, I hope you’ll be happy for me because I’m happy for me,” Louis begins with a deep breath. Her stomach is practically in knots as she prepares to tell her family that won’t be coming home after all. All that nervous tension melts away feeling Harry discreetly holding her hand between the tulle of their gowns; all the confirmation Louis needs to know she’s doing the right thing; That _they_ are doing the right thing.

The night that Louis was so worried about is smooth sailing after receiving her family’s blessing in becoming lady-in-waiting. Miraculously, Louis doesn’t trip and fall when she’s announced to the ballroom packed with people. She sings perfectly during the talent show case later on, and she even refrains from making a big, loud, obnoxious scene after Harry’s flawless piano performance, though Louis really, really wanted to scream about it.

At dinner, Louis is the definition of lady-like etiquette. She does so well that Lady Watson actually smiles at her. With _teeth_. And the scariest part of it all is that she smiles again during the group waltz because Louis got through it without accidentally stepping on her escort or anyone else, while actually keeping time. And if that doesn’t officially make Louis an adult, she doesn’t know what will. 

Overall, this ball has been near perfect. The only area for improvement that she can think of is how much of tonight she experienced without Harry. They have been near one another all evening; close enough to exchange private looks and grins and generally ignore their dates, but Louis needs more. It’s what both of them think once the wine starts flowing much faster and everybody including guests descend upon the dance floor.

People are so distracted by the music that they don’t pay attention to much else, least of all Louis and Harry. Everyone has had too much alcohol to even notice when they leave the ballroom, temporarily escaping from all the dancing and chaos for a few quiet moments alone.

Neither of them really decides to go to the maze at the end of the back garden. They just sort of gravitate towards it like the night they first met. Out here, there is nobody except the moon and stars to see them holding hands, so they do so without fear. They walk through the garden until the sounds of the ball becomes a soft murmur rather than a clash of loud music and laughter. They walk until all Louis can hear are the crickets in the surrounding woods and her own heart beating double-time when Harry leans in and gently kisses her against the maze wall. 

“I didn’t think this night could get any better, and _yet_ ,” Louis teases. Louis eagerly leans in again but this time, her mouth lands on a pair of slack lips. “ _Oi_ ,” she complains, her brow furrowing and her heart stopping dead in her chest when she opens her eyes and realizes why Harry isn’t kissing her anymore.

There’s someone watching them from just a few yards away. It’s someone Louis recognizes right away because she looks so much like Harry, save for being just a few years older. Louis thought no one noticed them leave the house, but clearly, Gemma did. She must have seen them sneaking out and followed them, and that means she saw everything. That means Gemma _knows_ everything. And, if that’s true, then what was just the best night of Louis’ life is going to become the worst the moment Gemma goes inside and _tells_ everything.

Louis feels sick with fear. She’s completely paralyzed by it, but Harry is panicking. It’s obvious from each bated breath struggling to leave her lungs as she stares at her sister and her sister stares back like they’re both seeing each other clearly for the first time.

“Gemma. Gems, please,” Harry says though a shaky breath. Louis has never seen Harry cry, but even just the threat of it has Louis’ chest painfully tightening in on itself.

This isn’t how tonight was supposed to end. The two of them weren’t supposed to end ever. They were so close to having everything. It’s crazy to realize how quickly a life can change. All it took was one split second for the dreams they built to come crashing down. And all it takes for those dreams to resurrect themselves and stretch higher than ever before is a proud, watery smile and the unexpected, warm embrace of a sister.

When Gemma finally lets go, Harry looks more stunned than ever.

“W-Why did you just do that?” she asks, blinking down confusedly at her now empty arms like she might’ve imagined Gemma hugging her. “But... you saw us together.”

“It’s not like it’s a huge shock after the way you went on in that letter, but _yes_. I did see you together, and be glad it was just me,” Gemma lightly scolds before suddenly turning cross. “I mean really, Haz! There’s practically a billion people here tonight. Anyone could’ve followed you out here. What the hell were you two thinking?”

“We weren’t,” Louis admits, her stomach turning again as she realizes how careless they were. “I- I’m sorry. We were stupid.”

“You were _idiots_ ,” Gemma corrects her. “I reckon the biggest idiots on Earth.”

She’s right is the thing. However, after a few seconds, the deep frown lines on her face begin to disappear the longer she looks between the two of them. Soon she can’t even keep up the glare she had fixed them with, fondly rolling her eyes in defeat. “Well, you’ll just have to be more careful from now on, won’t you?”

“From now on?” Harry grins hopefully at her sister.

“Well, I mean, the guards and servants and members of court will turn a blind eye if they’re told, but my will only goes so far until mother and father step down,” she explains. “So, for a while you two have got to at least try to keep a low profile and not look so disgustingly lovesick. I would prefer starting my reign without losing my head for murder, but if it comes to it...”

“ _Your_ head?” Harry laughs incredulously.

“Yes, _my_ head,” Gemma quips back, shoving Harry in the arm for emphasis. “If anyone’s losing body parts around here for taking out bigots, it’s _me_. And do you know _why_?”

Louis doesn’t know why, but Harry sure seems to, suddenly unable to stop smiling.

“Because you’re the eldest,” Harry answers, smiling even brighter when Gemma gives a fond roll of her eyes and forces Harry into another tight embrace.

“Damn right, I’m the eldest,” she whispers to her little sister, “and don’t you forget it.”

*

Three Years Later

If there’s anything Gemma hates more than having to validate her decisions to a room full of old men, it’s watching disapproving frowns take shape on her council members’ face because they don’t agree with her politics.

She isn’t queen quite yet. Her coronation isn’t for another sixteen hours, so this meeting is just preliminary, but the moment she’s crowned, the stubborn old men are the first things to go. Her parents retired their crowns because they think it’s time for some changes; a new era, and Gemma couldn’t agree more. A more diverse and less grumpy council is at the top of the list of things she wants to do right after changing the laws dictating how she and her sister live their lives. As soon as her council finishes having their collective stroke, that is.

“B-But, Princess Gemma,” one of them pipes up next to her. “Heirs to throne must marry _and_ produce legitimate heirs to maintain the royal bloodline. If not, then- then-”

“Then it sounds like there’s no more royal bloodline and someone else gets a go at it,” Gemma counters making several of her council members’ faces go pale just for the hell of it. They think she’s insane. Gemma becoming queen has probably been their worst fear for years, and she’s flattered that her determination to make this kingdom better is scary to them. This is why Gemma never let her parents try to take them on because change always ruffles feathers. Her parents were amazing monarchs and they should keep their reputation as such. If people want to be mad at someone for changing things, they can be mad at Gemma who originally wanted to propose making same-sex marriage a thing today, but baby steps.

“But, your highness, you married nearly a year ago and you’re already with child. Why bother changing the laws now?” another member demands.

Gemma lays a hand on the little bump visible beneath her dress. When she does so, she catches sight of the wedding band on her ring finger forcing herself not to grin like a fool from the butterflies it still gives her.

She was lucky enough to marry someone she loves; someone she fell _in_ love with and she’ll spend the rest of her life with that person. It’s what she always hoped for, but never expected with her royal duty. And the best part about it all is it was their choice. All Gemma wants is to give Harry and Louis that same option. And, now that she’s finally in a position to make those kinds of demands, she’s not backing down.

“My point exactly. You’re all still getting the legitimate heir you care about so bloody much, so what difference does it make if the laws are there or not?” She responds, only for a council member near the end of the table to clear his throat.

“And the whole kingdom is very happy for you and Prince Thomas, your highness. But, what about Princess Harry? Obviously, she’ll also need to marry and have children for insurance of the crown in case of... well,” the man finishes awkwardly implying that Harry is their insurance in the event that something happens to Gemma and her family. They’re all just pawns in a game. Gemma has known that since she was a child and she made peace with her duties as the first-born, but Harry is under no such obligation. Gemma won’t stand for it. 

“Well, last I checked, I was still very much alive so this only concerns me. Also, I would never presume to know what my sister or any woman may want for herself in the future, but since she’s sitting right here, let’s ask her,” Gemma says, grinning down to the far end of the table where her younger sister has been listening quietly the whole time. She’s sitting next to her lady-in-waiting who has even less reason to sit in on this council meeting, but everyone knows by now that she and Harry go everywhere together. They’re a set.

“Harry?” Gemma addresses her. “There’s been an awful lot of discussion about your life and which laws get to dictate how you live it. What do you think?”

Harry bites down on her grin when she looks to Louis first before answering her with confidence. “I think I like your plan best. It’s good.”

“I agree, and that’s precisely why we’re going with it,” Gemma declares, enjoying the stunned silence from all the council members as she, the almost-queen, does the exact opposite of what they wanted. It takes everything Gemma has not to laugh. “I have a coronation rehearsal to get to, and I believe Harry and Louis have business to attend to as well so they are dismissed, however the council will stay behind and amend the law books so they’re ready to be reviewed and signed as soon as I’m crowned tomorrow morning,” she announces, grinning when her annoyed-looking council members scramble to stand from their seats to see them all off. “Good luck!” Gemma shouts from the corridor right before the giant door shuts behind her, Harry, and Louis. The next sound that fills the corridor is the three of them hurrying far enough away from the door so nobody hears them cackling.

“Holy shit! Did you see their faces?” Gemma laughs once she’s composed enough to speak again. No one answers her question, but she soon realizes why when she straightens up to find Harry and Louis locked in a celebratory kiss. They are in their own little world as per usual. At times, it’s almost sickening how much they love one another, but Gemma never complains because she and her husband can be equally as gross especially now that they're expecting.

Gemma clears her throat after a while, ending their kiss prematurely but she’s sure it’s only temporary. “Well, I actually am late to a coronation rehearsal. It's the last one, so I’ve got to go.”

“Yeah, us too,” Harry nods. “We told Louis’ family we’d be there to get them before sunset.” She’s talking to Gemma, and yet she’s still smiling like an idiot at the woman beside her who can’t wipe the happy smile off her face either.

“You two have a good trip. See you when you get back,” Gemma tells them. “Oh! And be sure to bring Ernest and Doris to see me before the coronation. I have gifts!” Louis’ youngest siblings stole Gemma’s heart the first time she met them and they’ve kept a piece of it ever since. Louis’ siblings are all so wonderful that Gemma can’t help spoiling them any more than Harry and Louis can.

When Gemma turns to leave, she’s stopped by her little sister pulling her into a tight embrace that warms Gemma’s heart like nothing else in this world ever could.

“Thank you, Gems,” Harry whispers into her hair. “For everything.”

When they pull back, Gemma fondly rolls her eyes to hide the fact that they’re swimming with tears. All she has ever wanted is to protect Harry’s happiness. She’s so grateful to be able to do that.

“Don’t mention it,” she grins back.

*

When Louis was a little girl, she would often dream of what her life would be like. Most of it seemed already laid out for her, but still she would wonder things like what kind of person she would grow up to be, which people would end up being most important in her life, and most of all, she wondered if she would ever be truly happy.

She didn’t know if it was possible to be truly happy because she always felt so awkward in her own skin. She spent so much time trying to fit in and be like other girls, but, if she could, she would go back and tell her younger self not to. She would tell herself to stop worrying so much about her future and her life because the one she's heading for is pretty perfect. She isn't like other girls her age, and that's okay because her differences are what make her future so special. Lastly, she'd also tell herself not to waste her time kissing so many boys to try and conjure up something besides indifference because in the end the person who's going to give her that big, warm, heart-racing feeling she's waiting for won't be any of them. Not even close.

Louis holds tight to Harry’s hand as they walk the long corridors of the palace down to where their carriage is waiting. It's such a simple thing, holding hands with the person she loves, but it's such a win; one Louis never thought possible. They pass lots of people on their journey who grin at them as if nothing is out of the ordinary, because it isn't. Even Harry’s parents regard them as just another couple, neither of them even blinking an eye when they wish Louis and Harry a safe trip. The King and Queen have known about them for a long time, and Louis’ family figured it out not long after. Their love for one another didn’t come as much of a shock to either of their families because the bottom line is their families are happy if they’re happy, and they are. That’s really all that matters. The rest, as Harry would say, is just backdrop.

They arrive at their carriage a bit later than expected, but a small delay is totally worth getting to sit on a council meeting to watch Gemma make history. The two of them wouldn't have missed that for the world. They also wouldn't miss the opportunity to personally go and collect the rest of the Tomlinson's for the big party tomorrow. 

“Lottie's going to kill us for not making it there before sunset like we promised,” Harry jokes as she’s helped into the carriage by their driver. 

“Yeah, probably,” Louis snorts as she’s helped in too, knowing that her sister will only be annoyed by their tardiness because she's so excited.

Instead of taking the seat across from Harry, she sits right next to her, grinning when Harry immediately links their hands again.

“Well, even if we do get murdered in cold blood, I’m excited to see them! Are _you_ excited to see them?” Harry beams.

Louis hasn’t seen her family in close to two months. And, depending on whether Lottie is willing to forgive them, she may be coming to live in the palace permanently as Gemma's new lady-in-waiting. It's something Lottie has been hoping for for over a year so Louis has a sneaking suspicion she won't be staying mad at them for long. Honestly, Louis has been hoping for it too. Having her sister around would be so perfect. Even better if _all_ of Louis' siblings end up choosing palace life.

“I’m mostly just happy that they’ll all be here for a whole week,” Getting to host them here at the palace is just as exciting if not more than Gemma’s coronation. Louis gets to have all the people she loves driving each other insane under one massive roof.

It doesn’t get any better.

She thinks that often, and each time she’s proven wrong. Three years ago, she didn’t think life could get any better than getting to go to the debutante ball and meeting her best friend. Soon after, it changed to life peaking at falling in love with her, then moving into the palace to be with her, people slowly finding out about them and being okay with it, and now, she's convinced life can't get any better Gemma fighting for their love and love similar to theirs. The list goes on and on. Somehow, every day of their lives is better than the last, and now that Gemma’s going to be Queen, the possibilities are endless. Who knows what their lives could be? Today, they're celebrating Harry being freed from royal marriage laws. Tomorrow, she and Harry could be looking at marriage _together_ , or someday even becoming _parents_ ; something that was so unthinkable before that they were virtually impossible. But, whatever the future brings, Louis knows she and Harry will be ready for it. Because together, they can do anything. 

The End


End file.
